The JediEmperor Series: Sunset of the Republic
by Lady Cora
Summary: A minor change of events in the past can lead to cataclysmic events in the future. What would have happened to the Galaxy if a minor detail in "Revenge of the Sith" was changed?
1. Seekers of the Past

**Disclaimer: **George Lucas owns everything, except the original characters, which belong to me.

The idea for this story took shape in my mind about two years ago, and as much as I tried to forget it, it kept nagging me constantly, as if defying my feeble attempts to discard it. Giving in, I started writing down the key elements on an old notebook, which quickly grew to two notebooks, then three and so forth, until I had a whole saga, spanning over a period of thirty years! At my father's insistency, I agreed to start posting it here. So, enjoy!

**Summary:** It is said that the alteration of a minor event in the past or present can have cataclysmic effects in the future. Bearing this in mind, what course would the Galaxy have taken if Obi-Wan Kenobi had returned from Utapau a day early?

**_The Jedi-Emperor Series_**

**_Part I – Sunset of the Republic_**

**Chapter I – Seekers of the Past**

_Let the Dead keep the Past_

_And to us give the Present._

**Romanian Blessing**

**Planet Cyliis, Star System Faerys, 5.000 years A. B. N. ( after the Battle of Naboo )**

"This just isn't my day!" Chief Prospector Andrra Wrenn sighed, as she wiped the sweat off her brow. "I can't stand this blasted heat any longer!"

"Maybe you should come in here and help me with the digging" a male voice resonated from within the dark cave. "It'll keep you out of the sun."

"And cover me in filth!" she spat. "Just keep working, Quar. There must be something on this wretched dust-ball, or else the New Republic Research Institute wouldn't have sent us here!"

"Maybe they made a mistake" suggested Quar.

"Gods forbid! If they did, a few heads will roll when I get back on Coruscant, mark my words!"

"All right, honey, I got the message" Quar laughed, enjoying the opportunity to tease his wife. "Why don't you look for Nizzy? I haven't seen her for a couple of hours."

"I'm sure she's off somewhere, talking to a bunch of rocks, or other mineral formations" Andrra said, with a shrug. "That child definitely has a problem!"

"Since when has a vivid imagination qualified as a problem?" Quar asked, coming out of the cave. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with dark skin, unruly brown hair and a pair of shining gray eyes, that contrasted with his complexion. "True, Nizzy seems to live in a world of her own at times, but that doesn't mean there is something wrong with her head! Her behavior is normal for a child who has lost her parents and feels alone in the Galaxy".

"I wasn't aware that you had a degree in psychology" Andrra said, in her most sarcastic tone of voice.

"You don't need to be a psychologist to realize these things, my dear" he answered softly. "Can't you see? Nizzy looks up to you. In a sense, you are her role model. And you hurt her with the things you say and do."

Andrra snorted. "Then maybe she should get another role model! I certainly have no intention of babysitting little girls! What in the Force possessed you to take her with us, anyway? You should have left her on Coruscant, with that crazy Uncle of hers!"

Quar rubbed his temple, feeling the pounding of an incoming headache. _And this is why I hate arguments,_ he thought to himself.

"Because she wanted to come with us" he answered his glaring wife. " She desired adventure and I thought it would be a noble act to grant an orphan her deepest wish."

"Always the hopeless idealist" Andrra shook her head vigorously. "If you were the one in charge of our missions, we'd be broke by now!"

"Money doesn't buy . . . "

"Happiness, I know, I know! You've told me this a million times, Quar! Go back to your digging and let me deal with this heat in peace!"

"As you wish" Quar answered, entering the cave. _I wonder what happened to the sweet woman I married twenty years ago, _he thought, picking up the sonic drill and continuing to blast a hole in the cave's wall.

Andrra, however, not having anything to do, sat down on an upturned crate. _I can't understand it! Why haven't we found anything, except some rodent bones!_ Rummaging through her backpack, she took out a fine sheet of flimsiplast, which had a picture printed upon it. The woman examined the man in the picture for the hundredth time, having already memorized all of his features: the elegant, regal posture, the wide shoulders, the slight tilt of the head, the look of two wise eyes, coated with joy and sorrow, the fine lines in the corners of his eyes, betraying the secrets of a harsh life and the small, almost imperceptible smirk of his lips, as if he alone was the bearer of a very important fact. In the lower left corner, two words were visible: Jedi-Emperor.

_Where are you hiding? Why can't I find any solid proof of your existence? _

She remembered, all too clearly, the meeting with Essan D'ghan, the president of the New Republic Research Institute:

"_As you know, Mrs. Wrenn, there are very few solid facts that prove the existence of the Jedi-Emperor. He was one of our galaxy's greatest leaders, yet barely anything has survived from his age, except for a painting in the Coruscant Museum of History and many legends, spread throughout the planets. We need more! Personal information, objects that belonged to him, maybe even a burial place. I don't care if his reign ended nearly 5.000 years ago! There must be something out there that will tell us his story!"_

"_Do you wish that I conduct the search, Mr. D'ghan?"_

"_Yes. You are one of the best Prospectors the New Republic has. If someone can find a trace of the Jedi-Emperor, I'm sure that will be you!"_

Andrra swore under her breath, crumpling the sheet in her fingers and tossing it on the ground. "Why can't I find anything" she growled softly. "I've been in far more challenging missions than this! I have unearthed the remnants of the Trayus Academy on Malachor V and the ruins of a Sith Temple on Hekarya! And yet, here I am, in this slag pit, in the middle of nowhere, clawing through the dirt for over three months with absolutely no results whatsoever! This isn't fair!"

"The Past does not show itself to those it deems unworthy" a voice spoke, out of the air.

"What?"

Andrra shot to her feet, casting glances all around her, with her heart beating rapidly in her chest. But all that she saw was a vast expanse of dusty, scorched plains, under the merciless rays of an orange sun.

"This heat is finally starting to get to me! Next I'll be seeing little green trolls!"

Turning towards the cave entrance, she shouted:

"Quar, I've had it! I'm heading for the camp. Do you want to come with me?"

"I'll come as soon as I finish digging, Quar answered, shutting off the sonic drill. You go ahead. I have to start looking for Nizzy and that might take some time."

Andrra nodded and, picking up her backpack, she set out for the camp, uttering colorful curses every five minutes, in response to the unbreathable hot atmosphere.


	2. Dreams and Discoveries

**Disclaimer: **I'm getting really bored of writing this . . . I do not own the Star Wars Universe, and never will.

**Author's Note: **Thank you very much for the reviews! You have succeeded in brightening my gloomy morning! Anyway, I believe I have some explaining to do:

Anakin and company will be making their appearance soon enough. The first three chapters are meant as a prologue of sorts. Don't worry, I'll post them very fast! As for the unusual beginning of this story, it is based on a writing style called _frame storytelling, _which basically means a story _within _the story ( the idea came to me after I finished reading Geoffrey Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" ) You'll see what I mean a little bit later. After seeing Episode III I have a ton of ideas! ( "Revenge of the Sith" by the way, was brilliant! I loved its Shakespearian feel and the intensity of the human drama! Good job indeed, George! )

Anyway, enough talking! On with the story!

**Chapter II – Dreams and Discoveries**

On the surface of planet Cyliis, the heat was lowering to endurable levels. The reason was quite obvious: nightfall was approaching fast. The system's large, orange sun was starting to lower towards the zenith, casting a bloody light over the flat, arid plains. An eerie silence seemed to engulf everything, as if the entire planet was expecting some monumental event to occur. And yet, nothing seemed to shatter the surreal peace that engulfed the world. The Gods were watching. And waiting.

In a dark, moist-filled cave, a girl was using a brush to wipe the centuries of dirt off the floor. Her face has scrunched up in concentration, sweat was pouring down on her forehead and flaming red hair was getting in her eyes. But none of this seemed to matter to her. All that existed for her in these moments was the cave floor and what she could discover under the soil.

"Nizzy? Nizzy? Where are you?"

The girl dropped the brush when she heard the voice and turned towards the entrance to the cave. There stood the tall form of Quar Wrenn, looking at her, with a gentle smile on his lips.

"What have you been up to in here, you little munchkin?" he asked, surveying the cave floor.

"Looking for treasure!" Nizzy answered, on an excited tone. "Just like you and Madam Wrenn!"

Quar kneeled down next to the girl, ruffling her hair with one hand.

"But we are not looking for treasure, little one."

"I know. I didn't mean treasure as in gold and jewels."

"Then about what kind of treasure are you talking about?"

"About something from the past!" Nizzy answered, clapping her palms enthusiastically. "I have a feeling we'll find something soon!"

Quar smiled at the child's enthusiasm. _If only Andrra were like that again._

Noting the pensive look on his face, Nizzy asked:

"Mr. Wrenn? Is something wrong?"

"No, child, nothing is wrong" he said, being snapped out of his thoughts. "I was just wondering how can you keep on hoping, when me and my wife are ready to call it quits?"

Nizzy tilted her head to one side, considering Quar's question.

"I _just _know there is something out here" she said, slowly. "Call it a hunch or something like that. I have a nagging feeling we're missing something big."

"Then you're definitely more cut out for this kind of job" Quar said, earning a smile from the little girl.

"Let me show you something!"

With that, she started looking through her small pouch, until she took out a pair of dark glasses.

"What are those?" Quar asked, intrigued.

"Special glasses. These can detect any type of metal, even when it's buried under tons of dirt!"

"Impressive", Quar noted, looking them over." Where did you get them?"

"My Uncle Dax made them for me. He's an inventor".

Quar turned the glasses over in his hands, marveling at the unique blend of technology. However, Nizzy's voice interrupted his train of thought:

"Madam Wrenn thinks Uncle Dax is crazy" she said, on a sad tone.

"Pah! Don't listen to her! She has the bad habit of speaking before thinking!"

Quar placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. "Your Uncle sounds to be a very nice man."

"He is! He's been taking care of me ever since Mama and Papa died, when I was little. He's the only family I've ever had."

"All the more reason to not listen to my wife's ramblings!"

Quar lifted himself from the ground, brushing the dust off his pants.

"It's getting pretty late" he said, gazing at the setting sun. "We'd best be off for the camp if we want to reach it before nightfall."

Nizzy, however, shook her head, placing the glasses over her eyes. "Let me see what I can find."

She started pacing the cave back and forth, looking in all directions, much to Quar's amusement. A few minutes passed when, suddenly, Nizzy gave an unexpected scream. "I found something!"

Not wasting another second, Quar immediately rushed at her side. "What? What is it?"

In response, Nizzy took off the glasses and placed them on the man's eyes. He stumbled for a moment, not used to the strange way the lenses seemed to show everything around him, but when he finally got his bearings back, he spoke: "Sow me what you have seen."

Taking his large, calloused hand in her own, little one, the girl led him towards the back of the cave, where a mountain of jagged rocks lay. Concentrating on them, Quar started to distinguish a faint, rectangular outlining, somewhere at the bottom of the pile.

"It could be a metal crate, judging by the shape, he whispered to himself."

"Then let's get it out, Mr. Wrenn! I'll bring the sonic drill!"

"Whoa, slow down little one! We can't take it out now!"

"Why?" asked Nizzy, disappointment slipping in her tone.

"Because it's already late. We need to get back to the camp. The nights on this planet are very cold."

"We could get some warm jackets" suggested Nizzy, not willing to give up.

"No. And, besides, we're not even sure if it is man-made. It could very well be a rectangular-shaped piece of iron ore. This place is full of abandoned ore mines."

"But . . ."

"No, Nizzy. Whatever it is, it will just have to wait until the morning. I' sorry."

With these words, Quar turned to leave, but stopped, seeing that the girl wouldn't follow fim.

"Nizzy?"

"I'll say here a little bit. There's a spot I didn't look at." When Quar raised an eyebrow, skeptically, she amended: I promise I'll be back in half an hour! Word of honor!"

"No more than half an hour" Quar relented, setting out for the camp.

When she was sure that he had left for good, Nizzy crouched down, near the pile of rocks, watching them intently and wondering how she could dislodge them.

_I have to see what is under here!_

With a vigorous shake of the head, she started looking for holes. None of the determination that now burned inside of her heart would exist, if it weren't for the dreams that haunted her sleep for over a week. She had told no one of them, because she herself could scarcely believe them.

Every one of them unfolded in the same manner: she saw the tall, majestic spires of Coruscant, gleaming in iridescent colors, under the rays of the mid-day sun. However, something always felt wrong: there was a tension in the air, which grew by the second. Everything started to shimmer, as hundreds of emotions assailed her senses all at once: fear, hate, fury, rage, pain, agony, terror, death. Then, out of nowhere, the streets were invaded by thousands of angry people, each carrying a makeshift weapon of some kind. They left a trail of devastation in their wake, destroying everything that could be destroyed. And of course, things got much worse. Entire battalions of white-clad armored soldiers arrived, in giant gun ships, carrying a whole arsenal of warfare with them. Officers dressed in olive uniforms led the battalions upon the mob of civilians, and what followed could easily be imagined: the civilians didn't stand a chance against the soldier's superior firepower and were killed in their thousands. The entire surface of Coruscant was being transformed into one gigantic, bloody war zone.

Each night, she woke up, screaming, terrified that her dream was the vision of some apocalyptic future. But when she analyzed it more closely, she discovered that a great many things didn't seem to add up. The New Republic Security Forces didn't wear white armor. So, then who were those menacing troopers? The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she was probably seeing an event from the past. A battle, a war . . . Soldiers holding back raging civilians . . .

A revolution! That had to be the answer! But when did it happen? She had no idea.

Finding a small hole, Nizzy struggled to get her fingers through. When she managed to lodge them good, she tried to pull on the rock, put it wouldn't budge. Biting her lip, the girl put all her strength in her hands and tried again, with the same result.

_How foolish I am, _she thought, _believing I have the strength to move this pile!_

She remembered one evening, when she couldn't sleep, and her Uncle had just told her a story.

"_And that is how the Jedi-Emperor managed to make peace between the Empire and the Rebellion. For years, most people thought such a thing was pure fantasy, but he managed to prove them wrong."_

"_Was he a good man, Uncle?"_

"_It depends who you ask. Some legends portray him as a kind, benevolent ruler, who deeply loved all the Galaxy's people, while others speak of him as a ruthless tyrant, bent on warfare and conquest."_

"_And which point of view is true?"_

"_I honestly don't know. So many millennia have passed since then, that no one can be sure where the truth lies. After he died, many people believed that he went on to become a God. The Sun-God, they would call him. Many used to call upon his name when they needed desperate help. But, of course, that's just plain superstition."_

Nizzy leaned her forehead on the surface of the nearest rock. Somehow, she knew that her frightful dreams and this search to prove the Jedi-Emperor's existence were interconnected. She _had_ to get that crate out from under the rocks, otherwise her nightmares would probably continue to haunt her forever.

She tried pulling yet again, only to rake her palm over a sharp edge, cutting herself. Biting back her scream, Nizzy tried not to think of the blood pouring from her hand. Instead, she pushed the rock backwards, trying desperately to dislodge it. No results.

_This is useless!_

Grinding her teeth together, she decided to give up and pull her hands out, when, suddenly, an idea popped in her head, from nowhere.

"Jedi-Emperor" she silently prayed, "give me strength!"

And then she felt it! Like a warm current, sweeping outwards from her very core! A strange, tingling sensation covered her skin.

"Use the Force, young one" a voice resonated. "Use the strength from within yourself."

Nizzy focused on the warm current that seemed now to flow all around it and concentrated it all upon the rocks. She could feel, just at the edge of her senses, another, much stronger being, helping her.

At last, after several minutes, one of the rocks at the base of the pile shifted and with it, the entire structure came crashing down. With a scream, Nizzy covered her ears and lay flat against the cave floor, waiting for the torrent of boulders to end. When it did, she slowly raised herself and walked over to the now flat mound. There, in the middle, wedged between two pieces of stone, sat a silver, metal crate. She had found it!

With a sigh of exhaustion, Nizzy sat down on the crate, closing her eyes, unaware of the fact that a translucent, spectral being was watching her, with a smile on his features.

The sun had finally sunk below the horizon. Night was enveloping Cyliis in its dark wings. A large, flying creature was soaring in the sky, singing its mating song on high-pitched notes. The silence was over, The Gods were rejoicing, for the secret had finally been discovered.


	3. As the World Falls Apart

I'm very happy you find my story interesting! I promise I'll try and be as punctual in updating as possible.

This chapter will be a lot darker than the others. It borders close to the M rating (I don't know exactly if it crosses the border or not). Nizzy finds more questions than answers and things take a turn for the worse. She receives help from a very mysterious character.

I know I promised a prologue of only three chapters, but I'll have to make it four. All the ideas that are currently slipping out of my mind just won't give me peace! This being said, enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter III – As the World Falls Apart**

_Dedicated to my reviewers: **Dawn369; Kazuya-Chan; froggifrog; Lord Windwalker; Kobe-Mac; thefragile7393. **The one thing that makes me leap with joy through the whole house in the morning ( causing the neighbors to think I've been on a coffee drinking binge again ) is finding out that I have a new review! Thanks so much, guys! _

A soft breeze blew across the arid plains. The sun had set and night could finally enjoy its dominion over the world. All around, little creatures were clawing their way out of the holes in which they had sought shelter from the heat. In the shroud of darkness, multiple yellow eyes could be seen, scurrying back and forth. In a sense, now the planet was truly alive. A lean, four-legged creature chased a smaller one through a patch of thorn bushes. It was the eternal dance of Life and Death, the game between the predator and its prey, a tribute to the Universe. The Gods watched on, knowing the hour of Revelation drew very near. . .

**x x x **

In the camp at the base of the Sayr hills, things were very far from tranquility.

"You _let _her stay in the cave? What were you thinking, you daft man!

Andrra Wrenn was pacing in front of the camp fire, her fists clenched at her sides, testimony to the fury that was coursing through her veins.

"She wanted to see something . . . "Quar, said, weakly.

"You idiot! Don't you realize it's almost midnight?"

Quar looked at his wrist chrono, then instantly shot to his feet.

"I'm going to look for her!"

"Much good that will do" Andrra mumbled. "The speeder's engine is dead, remember? Without it, we can't cover even a quarter of this Force-forsaken dustball!"

"I'll try to fix it" Quar said, opening one of the speeder's hatches.

"Hah! With your technical skills, you'll be lucky if you don't make the thing blow!"

Andrra clasped her hands on her hips, sighing heavily.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Nizzy?"

The woman watched as the stars in the sky faded very fast. The reason quickly became apparent, as the planet's three moons rose slowly. The first and largest one was of a blood-red color, dotted with dark craters, remnants of ancient collisions. The second one shone pearly-white, with the intensity of a small sun. The third and smallest, was an icy blue, with a smooth surface. Rays from these three moons shone down upon the ground, in a myriad of colors. They united in a single, flowing pattern, only to shatter in a million little filaments, and unite once again, when they touched the ground, covering the plains in a shimmering curtain of silky light.

Andrra watched the breathtaking lights, but her eyes were not seeing the beauty in front of her. Her mind was wondering far and wide, across the scorched basins and hollow valleys, in search of a lost girl.

"One of these days, you are going to be the death of me, Nizzy" she murmured, gazing in the distance.

Suddenly, a faint rumbling sound could be heard. Andrra turned sharply towards her husband.

"Would you stop it with the noise? I'm trying to think here!"

"I haven't been making any noise at all" Quar protested. "This rusty thing won't even start!"

Andrra turned her eyes towards the horizon, where a small, black spot could be seen.

"It's Nizzy" she shouted. "Quar, get me the electro binoculars!"

He quickly obliged, handing Andrra a pair. The woman placed them over her eyes, increasing the magnification, to see just what was heading their way. At first, both the shrouding darkness and the veil of colors wouldn't allow her to see clearly. However, when the object drew nearer, she realized it was a speeder.

"Let me see"

Quar grabbed the binoculars and set his eyes to the east.

"A speeder." he said. "And judging from the trail of dust it's leaving behind, I would say it is going very fast!"

"What would Nizzy do in a speeder?" Andrra asked, perplexed. "She can't drive!"

:"I don't think it is Nizzy." Quar said. "Oh! Look, there are more of them!"

Far, in the distance, the metal chassis of several speeders were clearly visible.

"I have a bad feeling about this" Quar whispered.

'Would you stop being so paranoid? Probably some patrol of the security forces on this backwater hole stumbled across that wayward girl. Wait until she gets here! What a spanking she's in for!"

"I'm not so sure about that, dear."

In a matter of minutes, the speeders were in range of the camp. There were five in total, painted a dull brown. The engines whirred to a stop, as they positioned themselves around the camp, surrounding it.

"Who are you?" Andrra asked. "What do you want?"

A tall, lanky man went down from one of the speeders. He was dressed entirely in black, his attire resembling that of a commando. Various tools and weapons hung by his utility belt.

"It does not matter who we are" he answered, on an icy tone. "What matters is if you tell us were the girl is!"

Andrra's eyes hardened. "What does Nizzy have to do with all of this?"

"A great many things. Now, if you wish to be spared from a painful and miserable death, you will tell us were she is!"

"And if we won't?" Quar asked, defiantly.

The black clad man waved his hand slowly and the occupants of the other speeders exited, surrounding the Wrenns.

"You will wish you were never born" the man stated, calmly. "Prepare them for interrogation."

**x x x**

The vast expanse of plains extended in all directions, as far as the eye could see. There were very few landmarks that could help one pinpoint his exact location. They were an ideal place to get lost. And that was just the word that described Nizzy's condition: lost.

The girl had been wondering around aimlessly for a few hours, unable to find her way back towards the campsite. Everywhere she cast her eyes, the landscape was the same.

"Madam Wrenn will probably kill me when I get back" she mumbled to herself. "Where is that camp?"

Although Nizzy had been roaming around on the plains for the past two months, going to and from the camp and excavation site, she had never made the journey by night. All of the landmarks were distorted by the ghostly lights that shone from the moons, making any sort of orientation nearly impossible.

Nizzy stopped a moment to catch her breath. Having dragged the metal crate with her for the past hours, she was very tired. Although it hadn't seemed very heavy at the beginning, her increasing fatigue was making her task more and more difficult. Add the fact that she could only use one of her hands (the other, which had been cut, was bandaged with a shred of her tunic) and it was very clear why she wanted to find herself in a warm bed, inside her tent, as soon as possible.

"_Once you set out in a task, you must complete it" _her Uncle always used to say. _"There is no try. Do. Or do not."_

"I wish you were here with me, Uncle" she whispered, gazing upwards, at the three moons. "I miss you."

The fingers of her good hand felt a hard, small, round object, through the soft material of her tunic. The pendant, her only heirloom from her deceased parents.

"_This belonged to your Father, Nizzy" _Dax said, as he tied the gold chain, with a little crystal pearl attached to it, around the girl's neck.

"_Papa?"_

"_Yes, Papa."_

"_Where Papa? Where?"_

Dax sighed, wondering how he should explain the truth to a child who was only three years old.

"_Papa and Mama are up there, among the stars, with the angels."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because that's where good people go when they die."_

"_I want Papa! I want Mama!"_ the girl sobbed hysterically, clinging to her Uncle with all of her might

"_They're dead, sweetie. They can't come back."_

But the girl continued to cry, with her head buried in Dax's chest.

Nizzy clenched her fingers tightly around the pendant, ignoring the pain. Not even after ten years had she forgotten that stormy night on Coruscant, when her Uncle became her only family. And this little pendant was the only thing she had left, from two people which she could barely remember.

She felt cold tears dripping down her cheeks. As much as she tried to stop them, they continued to pour, in little streams. On cold, lonely nights such as this, she couldn't stop her mind from roaming to that spot in her past, and always her grief got the better of her.

"Calm yourself, Nisadora" a voice called out of nowhere.

Nizzy flinched, her fingers quickly releasing the pendant. She cast her sight all around her, but all that she could see was barren wasteland.

"Be strong" the voice continued. "The past cannot be undone. Only the present counts."

"Who are you?" she whispered.

"Your Guardian."

Nizzy frowned. Her Guardian? A disembodied voice? It didn't make absolutely any sense at all! But the voice was familiar somehow . . .

The cave! The spirit that told her to use her own strength!

"Why are you guarding me?" she asked. This time, however, the voice remained silent.

Nizzy shook her head twice. _Something must be wrong with my head. Now I'm starting to think I have spectral Guardians! Maybe Madam Wrenn was right. Maybe my imagination does carry me away . . ._

Nizzy's thoughts were interrupted by a loud shuffling sound. The girl raised her eyes, only to find herself surrounded by a whole pack of black, skinny, four-legged creatures. Their yellow eyes were glowing brightly and their snouts were open exposing jagged teeth.

"I take it you're the local hunters?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

The only responses she received were a few low growls. The creatures had formed a circle and were assessing their prey, judging if she was dangerous or not.

Nizzy struggled to make her panicked brain to come up with an idea, but the only thing she could feel was the maddening desire to break into a run and her heart, beating in a loud rhythm in her chest.

"Don't run" the voice said. "That would be your death sentence. Predators are focused upon chasing movement. Hold your ground and confuse them. It will give you a few more minutes."

"And then they'll tear me to shreds" Nizzy couldn't hold back the sarcastic reply. "Thanks!"

"Use your logic, girl. Find out what frightens them most and use it against them."

Nizzy nodded slightly, crouching low, using the metal crate as cover and searching through her pouch.

_What would scare them? Noise? Fire? Light?_

Her hands touched a couple of wires and an idea came to her.

Rising from behind the crate, Nizzy saw that the creatures were slowly approaching, tightening the circle. Apparently, they had decided that she didn't pose a threat and that they were in for an easy kill.

_How wrong you are! _The girl thought as she connected two wires together. Immediately, white sparks started to fly in all directions, from the point of contact.

The predators jumped back slightly, with small whimpers. It was clear that they have never seen electricity before.

Seeing this, Nizzy approached them cautiously, with small steps, all the wile holding the wires in front of her. The predators retreated slowly, their glowing eyes set on the girl.

"Find a breach in the circle" the voice ordered.

Nizzy nodded, continuing to advance. The circle loosened more and more, until the girl could see a few empty spots.

"Good. Try to pass through them. Look to the north."

Nizzy turned her head in the indicated direction and saw a patch of rough shrubs, surrounding a lone tree.

"If you can reach the tree and climb it, you'll be all right."

The girl took note of the spirit's advice and continued to advance. Just a few more steps and she would be free . . .

Suddenly, one of the predators moved very fast, striking at the child.

"Move!"

Nizzy jumped quickly to one side, the creature missing her entirely.

The others, seeing their leader, became bolder and started to tighten the circle again.

"What now?" Nizzy asked, struggling to keep herself under control.

"Concentrate, Nisadora. Use the Force within."

Nizzy closed her eyes tightly, trying to do what she had done in the cave.

Another creature struck and she barely dodged.

"Focus, child! The Force is your ally! Don't work against it!"

The girl continued to walk slowly, backwards.

"Your focus determines your reality!"

A third one jumped, but this time, Nizzy was ready. Extending her senses all around her, she could _feel _the moves of the predators, a few seconds before they actually happened. The creature lunged forward. The girl, sensing its intent, moved towards the right and the predator's jaws clamped shut in mid air. The girl whacked it hard over the snout with the wires, making it howl and fall backwards.

"Well done!"

Nizzy's heart leaped with joy. The feeling was _exhilarating! _Never in her life had she felt so free, so limitless, with the adrenaline rushing through her veins!

"Be careful!"

But it was too late. In her euphoric state of mind, Nizzy hadn't considered where she was heading. She felt her feet hit the crate with a thud, her balance slipping and she fell to the ground. Her head hit the soil hard and she cried out in pain. In front of her eyes the landscape started to shimmer and as much as she struggled to keep her consciousness, the black void overcame her.

The pack, seeing the girl sprawled over the ground, unmoving, started to move in for the kill.

However, their plans were foiled. The leader lifted its head in the air, listening intently. Surely enough, the unmistakable hum of speeder engines could be heard. With a howl, it signaled to the entire pack and they took off in a dark blur of fur and dust, as the speeders approached the unconscious child.

**x x x**

Andrra struggled to open her eyes. The dried blood that covered her face did not make the task any easier. Her vision was blurry and she could not distinguish anything clearly. She didn't feel her body at all. When she experimentally tried to move her left wrist, a sharp stab of pain tore through her.

"Ah, you have awakened" a cold voice stated.

The woman struggled to focus her sight on a shadow to her left. Where was she? Why? Try as she might, her muddled brain was incapable of coming up with any answers.

"Let's continue, then" the man said. "Where is the girl? Where is Nisadora?"

Andrra closed her eyes again. Several flashes of light seared through her closed eyelids and she almost could see people . . . faces . . . a little girl with short, red hair and clear blue eyes . . . Nizzy!

The recent events hit her like a cruiser coming out of hyperspace! She gasped, pulling against her restraints, only to be rewarded again by a huge dose of pain running through her broken bones.

"Where is she?" the man whispered, standing very close to Andrra. "Tell me and I'll make sure your pain ends."

Andrra glared at him with all the hate she could muster.

"Well?"

As an answer, Andrra spat a mouthful of blood in his face.

The man jumped to his, feet, enraged. With one hand he wiped the blood off his face, while the other was tightening around the woman's neck.

Andrra desperately tried to suck air into her lungs, but all that she could feel was the intense burning in her chest and the crushing grip around her trachea.

"I should kill you now" the man growled, fiercely.

Andrra wanted to answer, but it seemed she had lost all control over her body. Her vision was starting to fade, as her body felt the effects of oxygen deprivation. Her lips stood open, in a mute scream and the only noise she could make was a small gurgling.

Satisfied, the man let go of her neck. Andrra wheezed, as she drew huge mouthfuls of air in her lungs. When she felt her senses slowly return, she turned her head to the right, where her husband lay, strapped to another table.

"Quar?" she whispered, hoarsely. "Quar?"

But she got no answer. Her husband stood perfectly still, his chest flat, and a black cloth covering his face.

_No! It cannot be!_

"He's dead" the man answered her unspoken question, in a flat tone. "Died a few minutes before you woke up."

_No! No! No! This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't . . ._

"If you wish your fate to be different than his, you will tell us where the girl is!"

Andrra turned her face towards him, tears mixing with blood.

"Why? Why are you doing this? What did that child ever do to you?"

The man snorted.

"It is not about what she _did_, but about who she _is_."

"What?" Andrra managed to grind out. She could feel the life slowly leaving her body.

"You truly don't know anything! That girl is far more important than you could possibly imagine! She is the last living descendent of the Jedi-Emperor!

It took a little bit for this information to enter Andrra's mind, but when it did, her whole world fell apart before her eyes.

"It . . . it is impossible!"

"On the contrary. A very powerful and influential man in the Galaxy has offered a very generous fee to me and my associates. The objective is to make sure that no member of the Jedi-Emperor's wretched bloodline survives!"

Andrra stood still staring at the ceiling. All this time! For all this time, a descendant of the Jedi-Emperor had been right next to her! And now . . .

. . . now she was going to die at the hands of these madmen!

_I will not let it happen! They won't be able to catch you, Nizzy! I will make sure of it!_

But these were promises that she could never fulfill. The massive blood loss was rapidly taking its toll on her already weakened body.

"You . . . will never get her!" she hissed, with her last strength. "Never!"

"We will see about that" the man retorted, smugly.

Andrra closed her eyes again feeling the last vestiges of her strength die.

"Run, child" she said, in a faint whisper. "Run and never look back."

With that, her head slumped to the side and her chest stopped moving.

The man rose from his seat, frustrated, when another entered the tent.

"Did she say something?"

"Nothing! Damn! Now that they're both dead, this job is going to get a lot tougher! We'll have to comb this entire wasteland for that brat!

Taking a comlink from his pocket, he ordered:

"Take these two and at least give them a decent burial!"

Putting the device back in his pocket, he made for the door, only to find it blocked by a third man.

"Sir, the western patrol has just sent in their report."

"Any news?"

"Yes, sir. They've found her and are bringing her to the camp!"

The leader smiled.

"Finally!" Tell them I await their arrival!"

"Yes, sir!"

**x x x**

Three brown speeders pulled in the camp, turning off their engines. Black clad men came out of them, one carrying an unconscious girl in his arms.

"It's her!" the leader said, upon seeing her face. "But what is that?"

He pointed towards a silver colored metal crate, which one of the men was carrying.

"We don't know, sir. We found it lying besides the child."

"It could be something from the excavation side" another suggested.

"Perhaps" the leader answered, pensively. "Put it somewhere safe. I wish to examine it later."

"And the girl?"

"Take her in the tent. It is time we finished what we came here to do!"

But no sooner had these words left his mouth, when, suddenly, the wind started blowing wildly.

"A storm! The weather forecast predicted a whole week of nothing but sun!" the leader said, perplexed.

The wind stopped as abruptly as it had begun. But everyone now saw that there was a new presence in the camp. A shimmering, translucent man stood in front of them. No one could make out his features exactly, because of a small halo of light that surrounded him.

"Who are you, specter?" the leader asked, recovering first from the shock. "And what do you want?"

"To make you pay for your transgressions" the specter answered. "Have you no honor? Torturing innocents and kidnapping defenseless children?"

"You cannot intervene in the affairs of the Living, Dead One. Return to your grave!"

"But I can! And I will!"

Just then, the specter disappeared. The men had no time to feel relief, however, as a powerful wave of sand carried by the wind hit them full force.

"It's a sand storm!" the leader screamed, desperately trying to cover his face. "Quickly! Take shelter in the tents!"

"What about the girl?" another yelled through the deafening roar of the wind.

"Leave her out here! The storm will take care of her for us! Move!"

The men huddled together in a tight group, as they clawed their way trough the waves of sand. When they all finally managed to cluster inside one of the tents, the leader sighed, contended.

"We should be safe in here!"

However, their happiness was short-lived. A low, rumbling sound could be clearly heard from above, through the din of the storm.

"What was that?" a young man asked, fearfully.

"Don't worry; probably the air hitting the tent."

But the sound was heard again, louder this time. Everyone felt a pang of cold dread in their chests.

"I'll see what it is" the leader said, rising from his sitting position, opening the hatch and sticking his head out. For a few seconds all was quiet.

Then the leader let out a blood-chilling scream.

All the men were on their feet instantly and scrambling for the exit, trying to see what was the matter.

As soon as they stuck their heads out, the reason for the leader's scream quickly became apparent: an enormous avalanche of sand was hurtling towards them on the slopes of the hills. In those last few seconds, they saw their world fall apart.

**x x x**

With a groan, Nizzy opened her eyes. She was lying on the ground, next to the metal crate. Slowly, she rose to her feet, ignoring the throbbing between her temples and the queasy feeling in her stomach. What happened? Where was she?

Looking around her Nizzy realized, with joy that she was in the camp. But her heart sank when she saw the devastation before her: not a single tent was standing. Almost everything was scattered on a five hundred meter radius, and a huge mountain of sand now stood where a tent had once been.

"What happened?" she whispered, horrified. "Mrs. Wrenn? Mr. Wrenn?"

"They can't answer you" came her Guardian's voice.

"Why?"

"Because they are no longer among the living."

Nizzy felt her knees shade and she dropped on the ground.

_Dead. Dead. Dead._

_No! I don't believe it!_

"It is the truth, Nisadora. Whether you believe it or not accounts for very little."

Nizzy placed both her hand on her face, to try and stop the deluge of cold tears that was threatening to be released.

"They . . . they didn't do anything wrong! _I _didn't do anything wrong! Why is this happening!" she choked out, through racking cries.

"Things are much more complex than they seem at first glance, child. The truth, in some cases, can cause more harm than a thousand lies."

"I want to know" she said, her voice shaking. "I _need _to know! Tell me!"

"Now is not the time, child. Pull yourself together. The men who killed the Wrenns are dead, but there are many more who wish to see you buried!"

Nizzy stood still for a moment, letting the convulsions of crying to ass through her, then she rose again, with pale skin and blood shot eyes.

"What must I do?" she asked, her stance still weak, but her tone of voice firm.

"You need to get off this planet as quickly as possible. Book passage to Coruscant and go to your Uncle. You will be safe with him."

"How can I do that? The only spaceport on this place is in the capital, and it takes almost three days to get there on foot!"

"Then we will use a speeder."

Nizzy's eyes roamed over the brown speeders. All of them were piled in a mound of contorted metal. Nothing could be salvaged from them. Her eyes landed on Quar Wrenns speeder."

"That one looks good" the Guardian said.

"The engine doesn't work" Nizzy mumbled, gloomily.

"But it can be fixed."

"I don't know how to fix engines!"

"But I do .Just follow my instructions."

"And I don't know how to drive a speeder either!"

"I know how to do that as well. I'll teach you."

"And . . . "

"Stop stalling! The more time we waste, the lees and less are your hopes of survival!"

Nizzy nodded, reluctantly, opening a hatch in the speeder's chassis. She started to work, listening intently to her Guardian's instructions. With one hand she fiddled with the wires, while with the other she clutched her pendant, tightly. She was focusing intensely on the little glass sphere in the palm of her hand, trying desperately not to feel the overwhelming loss that echoed in her soul. Trying to forget the fact that, in the span of a few short hours, her world had fallen apart before her.

**Author's Note: **The next (and final chapter of the prologue) is coming. I'll try to post it as soon as possible. From there on, the action switches to the middle of Episode III, 5.000 years in the past (though how this switch is realized is my little secret. You'll just have to read the chapter to find out)

And I apologize to whoever was shocked by the torture scene. I thought of removing it, but I feel that it is a key point, and that its removal would cause more harm than good to the story. Please, feel free to review your comments, both good and bad.


	4. Memories of the Old Gods

The final chapter of the prologue! The chase is on, as Nizzy must find sanctuary from the Darkness that pursues her and learn new things about the world around her. Also, we find out that her Guardian is more than he seems at first glance . . . On with the story!

**Addendum: **Sorry if I made some word mistakes in the last chapter, but I stayed up until 12.30 PM to get it finished, with a big mug of coffee in front of me.

**Chapter IV – Memories of the Old Gods**

_Do not judge the Gods . . . _

_They have painful Secrets._

**Jean-Paul Sartre**

The inhabitants of Tasuuan, the capital (and only) city of Cyllis had spent an uneventful night. Everything was the same as usual, in this small port-city, which had a population of only 100.000 souls. The morning sun was bathing everything in a fine, gold shroud, as various sentients, both human and alien, were scurrying back and forth, getting ready for a new day. Nothing was out of the ordinary, except for a few strange news reports, that spoke of an unusual sand storm, which had occurred in the Sayr hills, to the East. But no one believed these rumors. A sand storm? Just as the rainy season was ready to start? Impossible! The witnesses were probably only attention-seeking liars. How far from the truth they were . . .

**x x x**

To the casual observer, there appeared to be nothing wrong with the old, rust-colored speeder which was making its way towards the city, along the Eastern Road. Probably just one of the prospectors working at the excavation site. However, if one were to take a closer look, he would notice several odd details. Firstly, the speeder didn't seem to be able to run in a straight line. Instead it kept swerving abruptly to the left and right, a few time going off the road, as if the driver had spent the night in a bar, on an alcohol drinking binge. Secondly, judging by many fresh dents in the chassis and the cracked windshield, it had encountered several large obstacles on the way. Seeing this, one might think that the driver was too drunk to be able to drive properly. No one would suspect that, behind the steering rod, sat a thirteen year girl, aided by an invisible Guardian.

"This thing is almost as slow as a sloth!" Nizzy grumbled, pulling sharply on the steering rod, avoiding a near-collision with a formation of rocks.

"I agree" the Guardian's voice answered. "However, it was the only available means of transportation and it will have to do for now."

Nizzy mumbled something unintelligible as she avoided another obstacle, only to mow trough a patch of dense vegetation.

"Would you have preferred to walk on foot?"

The girl shook her head, keeping her eyes on the road in front of her.

"The stop complaining. If the landscape is any indication, we should arrive in the city soon."

All around them, the plains were disappearing, making way for large fields, in which the native crops of saubaa plants grew.

"There it is" Nizzy said, pointing straight ahead, where the blocky, tan colored buildings of Tasuuan could be seen. "Are we going to enter inside the city?"

"No, not with the speeder. It will draw too much unwanted attention. Find a spot at the outskirts where you can leave it"

"And then?"

"We'll have to make our way to the spaceport as quickly as possible."

Nizzy nodded, as she turned the vehicle to the right. Advancing a few more meters, she stopped in the shadow of a run-down, derelict building and cut the engine.

"Good. Now let us make haste!"

Nizzy opened the door and exited, but after a few steps, the Guardian's voice interrupted her:

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

Puzzled, Nizzy looked back at the speeder, only to see the metal crate, on the back seat.

"Oh, that" she said, flatly.

"What is the matter? A few hours ago you were very curious to know what was inside it."

"A few hours ago Mr. and Mrs. Wrenn were alive and I wasn't being chased all over the planet by killers!" she retorted, fiercely.

"Nevertheless, you must take it with you. Many answers to your questions lie within."

Sighing, Nizzy dragged the crate out of the speeder.

"What should we do next?"

"Do you remember which way the spaceport is?"

Nizzy flicked through her memories, to the day almost two months ago, when she and the Wrenns arrived here, on a private shuttle from Coruscant.

"To the North" she answered slowly. "Just passed a large plaza and some storage depots."

"Very well. Let's head that way. And remember: move as stealthily as possible and don't stay in an open space for too long!"

Nodding her assent, Nizzy started to walk towards the spaceport, dragging the crate behind her. The first couple of streets didn't pose much of a problem, seeing as very few sentients lived in the dingy district that made up the outskirts. However, as she began to get closer and closer towards the center, Nizzy had to leave the crowded areas and crawl through dark, dirty, narrow alleys.

"It smells awful!" Nizzy huffed, as she passed a few overflowing garbage bins.

"Moments like this make me feel relieved that I am a ghost and therefore have no sense of smell" her Guardian said, smugly.

"Shut up!"

After an agonizing half an hour through the city's filthy bowels, the girl managed to exit the alley and find herself in a large plaza. People were walking in all directions laughing and mingling. Obviously, this was the heart of the city.

"Finally, fresh air!" Nizzy said, inhaling deeply.

"Nisadora, hide! Quick!"

In a second, Nizzy's reflexes kicked in and she threw herself and the crate in a small parting between two buildings.

"What was that about?"

"Be silent!"

After what seemed like a minute, a patrol of uniformed officers passed by the spot where the girl had been standing earlier.

"Those are members of the Security Forces!" she said, recognizing their dark green uniforms. "We could ask them for help."

"No!"

"But why? When someone is out to kill you, the best solution is to turn to the Security Forces!"

"We don't know their intentions. It could be possible that they are in league with those mercenaries."

"No way! They're supposed to protect the civilians!"

"Nisadora, we are not on Alderaan or another such civilized place. This is the Outer Rim. Life is rough out here. It wouldn't have been hard for the mercenaries to bribe the leaders of the local militia. A couple of _donations_ and a recent photo of the target to be eliminated is all that is needed."

"I'm so foolish" she whispered.

"No. Sheltered from the harshness of life is not the same as foolish. If you were truly foolish, now you would be lying in a grave."

The child crossed her arms over her chest, but remained thoughtfully silent.

"They have passed" the Guardian said. "Let us go."

Nizzy grabbed the crate and continued her trek, carefully walking very close to the buildings and hiding swiftly if she saw any suspicious activity.

At last, after four grueling hours, she managed to sneak inside the spaceport, through an old air vent.

"You are learning quickly young one."

Nizzy allowed herself the luxury of a small smile, but it died on her lips when she saw the vast number of ships in the docking bays. There were aircraft of all shapes and sizes: from small, one-man fighters, to two huge, silver cruisers.

"Oh, no! How are going to find out which one of these goes to Coruscant? There are hundreds of them!"

"Do not give in to despair, child. It will gain you nothing."

"Then what shall be do, High and Mighty spirit?"

"Think, girl" the spirit said, ignoring Nizzy's insult. "Use the brain you were born with!"

Nizzy frowned. _What does this crazy spirit want me to do? Find a few magic words, chant them and be instantly transported to Coruscant!_

"No, Nisadora. Use your mind. Often it will be the only shield between you and certain death."

The girl bit her lip, frustrated.

"Can't you help me in some way?"

"If I do everything for you, this is all pointless. You will stagnate, become dependant on my guidance, unable to fend for yourself. Is that what you wish? To always rely on others, not being able to stand up on your own two feet?"

"No" Nizzy murmured, her eyes set on the tips of her shoes.

"Raise your eyes, child" the Guardian said, in a gentler tone. "You are an innocent, captured in a web of lies and deceit. It is not your fault."

Nizzy raised her gaze, reluctantly and bit her tongue to hold back from screaming. In front of her, a tall, slightly transparent man had appeared. He was clad in simple, dark robes. He looked to be about in his mid-fifties, with short, silver hair, fine wrinkles and deep, blue eyes that looked at the girl with kindness.

"Who . . . who . . . ?"

"Do not worry, young one. I am your Guardian and I would never hurt you."

Nizzy swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Why didn't you show yourself before?"

"Because I feared it might frighten you" he answered. "I know from experience that the Living can be very panicky when it comes to apparitions of the Dead."

"When did you die?" she asked, unable to refrain from studying the man from head to toe.

"A long time ago" he answered, in a nostalgic tone, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "When the Galaxy was in a deep struggle between the Darkness and Light."

"You fought in that struggle?"

"Yes. In a sense, I was the one who caused it all to happen." he said, in a low whisper that sent chills up Nizzy's spine. She opened her mouth, to ask another question, but was interrupted by a loud, male voice:

"There she is!"

Nizzy and the Guardian both whirled around, only to see five soldiers of the militia, coming at them in full sprint, with blaster carbines in their hands.

"Run!"

The girl didn't waste even a second; she lunged forward, running as fast as her short legs could carry her.

"After her!"

Nizzy ran, focusing straight ahead: her brain kept ordering her to look back, to see her pursuers, but she quickly clamped down on that thought.

"Concentrate" the Guardian's words rang inside her mind. "Focus only on the here and now. Everything else is irrelevant."

_I must be strong,_ she chanted in her head, like a mantra. _I must be focused. I must survive!"_

Unfortunately, the sprint was taking her toll on her already overworked tiny body. Her muscles were throbbing painfully and each move felt like moving a ton of boulders.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, as her lungs demanded more air. Her head was starting to spin from the effort and she felt her concentration shattering.

"Focus, child!"

Try as she might, Nizzy could not get her body to move with the same swiftness. She clearly heard the clipping of the soldiers' boots on the metal floor. They were gaining on her.

_The Force is my ally! _Nizzy thought as she reached deep inside within herself, to that hidden spot, there the dormant energy lay. Pulling away the barriers, she let it flow freely through her, charging every cell of her body.

_They will not catch me. Not today!_

Using the invisible current, the girl accelerated her movements, passing workers technicians and pilots alike, who only saw a band of militia soldiers chasing an indistinguishable blur.

"She's getting away" one of the soldiers yelled. "Shoot her down!"

Nizzy felt the shot coming a split-second earlier and jumped to the right. Then another came. And another. The girl managed to deflect three in total, but a fourth managed to elude her senses and grazed her left thigh.

With a scream, Nizzy collapsed to the floor, her hold over the Force slipping away from her.

"She's down!" a soldier announced. The four of them strode over towards the crumpled form of the girl.

"Is she dead?" one man asked, pointing to the bleeding wound on her leg.

"Not likely" another answered. "That shot wasn't lethal." He raised his carbine and aimed the child's head. "But this one will be!"

"No!" a soldier ordered, pushing the other's weapon down.

"What did you just say?"

"I said no! We do not need to kill her. Alive, she's worth a lot more. Besides, I don't know about you, but I'm not about to kill a defenseless kid!"

"Are you out of your blasted mind! Did you forget how much money were in for if we do this job?"

"No, I haven't forgotten. I just think we've gone too far with this!"

The other soldier's response was a string of curses, in which he proceeded to send his comrade back to his earliest origins.

"Umm, guys?" a third one asked slowly.

"WHAT!" the two yelled in unison, turning towards him.

"We have a problem" he said, pointing at the floor. There, where Nizzy had been, was only a small spill of blood.

The five men gaped at the spot, stunned! Somehow, the child had managed to escape when they were not paying attention.

"You idiots!" one of them growled. "We had her in our hands and now she's gotten away because of your stupid bickering.

The others at least had the decency to look ashamed.

"Stop standing there, you jumma-heads! We have to go find her! Seal all exits and entrances! No one is to leave this port until we have her!"

All the soldiers saluted, spreading in various directions.

"And when you see her, eliminate her! One clear shot to the head and this whole mess will be over!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

**x x x**

As the soldiers scattered, Nizzy dared to move slightly in the small niche where she had crawled when the men were distracted with their bickering. Wincing, with trembling hands, she finished to tie another strip of cloth to her wounded leg. Gritting her teeth, she leaned her back against the metal wall, trying to ignore the pain.

"That was too close" she struggled to whisper.

"That it was" her Guardian said, materializing alongside her. "I'm sorry, child."

"For what?" she asked, hoarsely.

"I should have been more careful. I was so engrossed in answering your questions, that I didn't feel them until it was almost too late."

"It was not your fault."

"Oh, yes it was! Even after so many years, I still manage to surprise myself with the stupid mistakes I make!"

Nizzy wanted to say something, but the Guardian interrupted her, by placing a shimmering, translucent hand on her shoulder.

"No, child. Not another word. You must conserve your strength."

Nizzy could only nod. She felt odd from the spirit's touch. When she was much younger, she had imagined a ghost' hands to be deathly cold. But his were different: they were warm and soothing. A strange feeling zipped through her as she became aware of a deep connection that she and this spirit-man shared. Somehow, the connection had always existed. She had felt small echoes of it in the cave and when she first touched the silvery metal crate. This, however, was the first time she felt it at its true intensity. _Something _far more grand than her young mind could comprehend was tying them together. And what ever it was, it could not be undone easily.

The Guardian smiled brightly and Nizzy could see happiness lighting his battle-hardened features.

"Yes, there is a connection between us, young one. It is one of the reasons why I am helping you."

"What is the other reason?"

"You called upon me" he answered simply, not elaborating further.

Nizzy frowned, not comprehending.

_Called upon you? When?_

Her memories drifted back to the cave and the words she had instinctively shouted:

_Jedi-Emperor, give me strength!_

And in that moment, it all clicked into place.

"You! You're . . . the Jedi-Emperor!" she said, in a strangled voice.

"Guilty as charged" he answered, with a rueful half-smile.

Nizzy could only stare, all coherent thoughts abandoning her.

"Well, are you going to stare at me all day?" the Guardian asked, impatiently.

Nizzy slapped herself, to make sure this wasn't some freak dream or fantasy. Naturally, she felt a twinge of pain in her cheek. It was true, then. It was true! Before she could stop herself, the words left her lips:

"Are you really a God?"

The spirit looked at her for a moment, then he threw his head back, laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Me . . . a God?" He said, fighting to stop laughing. "Bless you child, where in stars did you get a preposterous idea like that?"

"My Uncle told me" she answered, feeling her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "So . . . you're not a God?"

"No, young one. Never was and never will be. In fact, I probably am the _worst _possible candidate for Divinity. With me as a God, this Galaxy would have been blown up in a million pieces by now!"

Nizzy smiled, at her own naïveté. She watched her Guardian, amazed at the change she alone had produced in him in the last few hours. From gloomy and brooding, his disposition had shifted to cheerful and lighthearted. And, somehow, _she_ was the catalyst of this change.

"Now" he said, turning serious once more, "we have a task to finish."

Nizzy nodded assent. Gripping the wall with one hand, she slowly rose to her feet, flinching with every sudden more.

"Good. Now, we need to retrieve the crate."

Struggling to keep her balance, Nizzy walked one small step at a time. As she exited the niche, she looked all around her. Noticing that the corridor was empty, the girl headed back to the docking bays. Surely enough, the crate lay on the metal floor, undisturbed, the spaceport personnel probably misdeeming it for luggage. Grabbing the handle, Nizzy started to tow it after her.

"Any idea as to how we can get out of here?" she asked. "All of the exits have been blocked."

"Not all of them. Standard security protocol states that, in case of an emergency, both ground and aerial traffic are to be interrupted."

"And? What does it have to do with us?"

"That protocol has not been applied here. Only the ground-level exits have been sealed, while the air traffic continues its normal course."

"Why?"

"Because the only thing that sustains this planet and its inhabitants is the commerce with other planets. If the naval traffic was to be shut down, even for a few hours, the consequences would be devastating. The economy, already fragile, would collapse immediately and with it would come all the other things that bring about the demise of a society."

Nizzy listened intently. She wasn't sure if the had understood everything she had been told, but she got the general idea.

"They're not willing to risk the welfare of their homeworld just to catch me" she stated.

"Exactly" acknowledged the Guardian. "Which is why boarding a ship bound towards Coruscant is our best chance at escape."

"But which one?" Nizzy sighed, exhaustedly.

"Let us think . . . what is this planet's economy based upon?"

Nizzy drummed her fingers on the surface of the crate, remembering what Quar Wrenn had told her.

"Mining. They mine ore from underground deposits."

"Good. Do they refine the ore themselves?"

"No. There are no refineries here. They are only suppliers."

"So, the ore is taken off planet" the Guardian said, thoughtful. "Tell me, do you know where the Galaxy's biggest ore refinery is?"

"Everyone knows that" she chimed in, enthusiastically. "It's on Coruscant! Me and my Uncle once flew past it."

The Guardian nodded. "Now, we can presume that the ore is transported to Coruscant to be refined. That is our key to leaving Cyliis."

Nizzy frowned slightly, but then realized the obvious answer:

"An ore-hauler!"

"Exactly. And there is one in Docking Bay 14 getting ready to take off as we speak."

Not wasting any more precious time, Nizzy and the Guardian set out for Docking Bay 14.

**x x x**

The ore-hauler was swiftly making its way through hyperspace, towards Coruscant, the capital of the New Republic. The small crew took care of their duties, unaware of the fact that they had stowaways on board.

Inside a hidden compartment, Nizzy was fiddling with the silver crate. No matter what she did, the thing wouldn't open.

The Guardian watched her for a few minutes, before he broke the silence.

"I believe I owe you an explanation."

"You can say that again" the girl murmured, absentmindedly.

"To know how to preserve your future, you must see the Past" he stated, placing his hand on her forehead.

"What are you doing . . . "

But she wasn't able to finish the question. A flurry of colors exploded before her eyes. She felt her consciousness merge with that of her Guardian.

_You will see the past through my eyes . . . through my memories . . ._

Then all went black and Nizzy couldn't feel her own being anymore as she was seeing the Past . . . through the Jedi-Emperor's memories . . .

**Author's Note: **The prologue is finished. I'll post the next chapter as soon as possible.


	5. The Hero Without Fear

Here, the action shifts in the past, as we see the unfolding of the Jedi-Emperor's story. If you are curious as to what does the crate contain or what will happen to Nizzy, the answers will come at the end of the series, when she has seen everything her Guardian has had to show her.

I thank all of my reviewers for their kind and supportive words. You make me truly happy every morning, when I have to drag my feet to school! Thank you!

**Chapter V – The Hero Without Fear**

_Heroes . . .  
Are Mortal  
And not Divine.  
We are all  
As God made us  
And many of  
Us much worse.  
_**John Osborne**

**Planet Coruscant, Star-System of Coruscant, 13 years A. B. N. **

Coruscant, the jewel of the Republic shone intensely, even rivaling its star for brightness. The sun's light reflected in the upper layers of the atmosphere, giving it a surreal glitter. But what really managed to impress one who saw it from outer-space were the forever lit lights of the planet-wide metropolis. They shone as crystal chains in the starlight, making the entire planet seem like a small pulsar, in the final stages of its life.

Now, however, his beauty went largely unnoticed. The many sentients who could see the planet had only one single thought in their minds: living to see another day.

A gigantic, triangular republican cruiser passed in front of the sun, darkening a good deal of the city, if only for a few minutes. After it raced a swarm of insect-like starfighters. Their cannons emitted red laser beams towards the cruiser, which bounced off its deflector shields.

Seeing as they weren't getting any results this way, a group of fighters broke off from the main formation and skimmed across the giant ship's surface. The lead fighter armed a pair of torpedoes and swiftly fired them towards what seemed to be a satellite dish, at the ship's rear end. The others followed his example and soon, a whole stream of torpedoes was heading towards the dish. They impacted, shattering the instrument, in a fiery explosion.

With a fritz, the cruiser's deflector's shields went off. Taking advantage of the situation, the whole squadron of fighters began to pour laser fire upon the ship's exposed belly, igniting small explosions.

"This is the cruiser _Argent_" a woman's voice sounded on the republican frequencies. "We're under heavy fire and our shields are down. Requesting assistance!"

"Help is on the way" a gruff male voice spoke. "Hold on!"

A squadron of republican starfighters converged near the cruiser. Most of them were red and white, with X-shaped foils. The leading ship, however, was almost triangular, with two panel-wings on the sides.

"Converge in gamma formation behind me! Lock X foils in attack position!" ordered the leader.

"Yes, sir!"

Shifting to a dagger shaped formation, the squadron speared through the enemy fighters, shattering them with their cannons.

In his cockpit, Jedi Master Saesse Tiin smiled grimly. Picking up his comlink, he spoke in the receiver:

"All units follow me! I'm going for the leader!"

The other pilots obeyed, amassing behind the Master's starfighter. Tiin opened the side thrusters and accelerated, zigzagging between various spaceships, towards the separatist leader's fighter. Seeing the danger that was heading his way, the leader quickly took off, flying his craft under a destroyer's belly, to use the ship's shield as cover.

"I don't think we can get him, General Tiin!" a pilot said.

"Yes, we can!" the Jedi Master hissed, pitching the nose of his aircraft down, towards the destroyer. "Commander Varyn, take these men and reinforce the defenses in the third sector!"

"What about you, sir?"

"I can take care of myself!" Tiin grumbled, gunning the engine and sending the starfighter in a straight dive. "Skywalker should have been out here" he murmured to himself, as he straightened the craft. "He's a better pilot than me."

The separatist leader, seeing the Jedi's starfighter approach, turned sharply, trying to escape.

"I don't think so" Master Tiin smiled, watching his H.U.D. pinpoint the exact position of the enemy fighter. After a few seconds, it changed to green and the onboard computer signaled the lock.

"Locked on target. Armed and ready" Saesse whispered, thumping the trigger. With a shaking roar, two air-air missiles were launched from the sides of the craft, towards the other fighter. It engaged in evasive maneuvers, but it was too late. The two missiles collided with it, in a bright explosion.

"That should teach you that the Republic means business!" Tiin said, enjoying the impromptu light show.

"Sir, are you all right?"

"Yes, commander Varyn. How are the defenses?"

"Fine, sir. The separatists have tried to escape through a few corridors, but we have managed to hold them."

"Good. Master Windu's words were clear. Not _one _Separatist ship must get away before we free the Chancellor!"

Suddenly, Saesse's conversation was interrupted by a rumbling sound. Turning to his right, he saw the largest Separatist Cruiser, _The Ghost Hand_, General Grievous' flagship, falling slowly into the planet's atmosphere. With short bursts, all the escape pods detached from the doomed ship.

"What's happening, sir?"

"We're winning the battle, commander" Tiin answered. "I just hope Kenobi and Skywalker got out of there with the Chancellor."

**x x x**

With low, screeching sounds, _The Ghost Hand _began its descent towards Coruscant's surface. All those who saw the Cruiser thought that any life form still alive inside was doomed to a painful death. However, that theory was known to not be applicable to the two Jedi Knights who were working frantically to save both themselves and Palpatine, the Chancellor of the Republic. . .

Inside the command post lay total devastation: dismembered droids were scattered everywhere. The shattered doors opened themselves with a groan, admitting three humans and an astromech droid. The first one appeared to be in his late thirties. He had shortly cropped auburn hair, with a matching beard. His eyes were a light silver-blue, surrounded by fine lines. He was clad in the traditional tan robes of the Jedi Order. No other than General Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The second one, and the shortest one of them, was an old, wise looking man, clad in rich, ornately decorated robes. Palpatine, Chancellor of the Republic.

The third one was the tallest. Dressed in dark robes, his posture was that of a seasoned warrior, contrasting with his young age. His gold-brown hair flowed on his shoulders, like a lion's mane. His eyes were deep blue, like the sky on a clear summer night. He was Anakin Skywalker, called "The Hero Without Fear" by the Galaxy, for his valiant efforts against the Separatists.

Lastly, came a white and blue astromech droid, who had seen more battles than any other of his kind: R2-D2.

Obi-Wan took in the damage around him with a critical eye. His gaze stopped on the viewscreen, where the approaching planet could be seen.

"Can you fly this ship?" he asked his former Padawan, who was already strapping himself in the pilot seat.

"Considering the state of things, I would say that the ability to fly this thing is irrelevant" Anakin answered, tightly. "Strap yourselves in!"

The two men quickly obeyed his command.

"Good. R2, I'm going to need your help to control the descent."

The little droid cheeped, enthusiastically, inserting his metal coupler into a port.

Anakin turned his sight to the control panel, swiftly turning dials and pressing switches.

"Open all ports and extend drag fins to decelerate!"

The ship shook violently as the drag fins opened on all sides, beginning to decrease the speed.

"We're stabilizing" Obi-Wan said, looking at the screens, over Anakin's shoulder.

Just the, an unbelievably strong tremor gripped the cruiser, shaking it like a paper doll in the wind. With a high-pitched sound, the ship tumble sharply over its axis and several readouts on the command screen went critical red.

"I think we lost something" Anakin grunted, desperately trying to preserve his failing control of the cruiser.

"Don't worry, we're still flying half the ship" Obi-Wan quipped with his characteristic dry humor, earning a sharp look from his former pupil.

Turning towards the controls once more, Anakin checked the temperature readings. "We're heating up."

Outside, the falling ship was being shrouded slowly in a veil of incandescent flames. Now, it resembled a fireball, a glowing tear ripped from the heart of Coruscant's sun.

"As long as the heat shields last, we should be able to make it" Anakin said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a black gloved hand.

"And if they don't?"

"Then we'll all turn into little shimmering lights in the atmosphere" he replied. "But I certainly won't allow that to happen!"

Visibility reduced to zero, as the ship was rocked by a new wave of turbulences.

"We're entering the atmosphere."

When the burning cruiser exited the thick blanket of clouds, all four occupants could clearly distinguish the tall, graceful spires of the metropolis.

"Fire ships, on the left and right" Obi-Wan announced.

On both sides of the craft flew small, rectangular ships, spraying it with pressurized jets of water, in an effort to contain the flames.

"We'll escort you in" the leader said, on the comm.

"Acknowledged"

As the cruiser entered the final stages of its wild descent, numerous smaller aircraft needed to swiftly change their course, avoiding to be struck by the metal comet.

"There's the runway" Obi-Wan said, pointing ahead.

"We're coming in too hot!" Anakin ground out trough clenched teeth. The young Jedi's sweaty palms were holding the piloting rod in a bone-crushing grip.

Slowly, the craft made its way towards the ferrocrete runway. As it drew nearer and nearer, the hearts of the passengers began thumping loudly inside their chests.

"Easy . . . easy . . . "

Then, in one blood-chilling moment, the cruiser's metal belly connected with the runway. The ship began to slide quickly on the ferrocrete surface, giving no sign that it had the intention to stop. The runway's end was fast approaching.

Sensing the impending danger, the two Jedi Knights reached inside themselves, calling forth the strength of the Force.

For a few seconds, the cruiser continued to move against the current of the Force, only to stop abruptly, with a shudder.

"Another happy landing" Obi-Wan said, unfazed.

Anakin leaned his head on the computer panel, struggling to control his ragged breathing.

"That was too close" he panted, looking at his former Master.

"That it was. Let us hope we will not be needed to repeat the experience!"

Anakin smiled slightly, extending his good arm, to pat Obi-Wan on the back.

However, his fingers only touched air. Perplexed, the young Knight tried again, only to see Obi-Wan's silhouette fading and distorting.

"Master!" he cried out. The whole command center started to darken and disappear before his very eyes.

Then, a dim light striked his eyes, among the clouds of darkness. It continually grew, until Anakin saw himself inside what appeared to be a medical bay. He squinted his eyes, trying to clear his blurry vision. He could almost make out a frail body on the operating table . . .

"_Anakin! Anakin! Help me . . . ."_

Padme!

Before Anakin could do anything, he felt himself being pulled away from his beloved wife.

_No! Padme! No! _

With a pained scream, he shot out of his bed, drenched in sweat.

**x x x**

The inhabitants of the Jedi Temple were overseeing their daily chores, Masters, Padawans and Knights alike. The morning light shone through the tall windows, giving the entire interior a surreal feeling. Few Jedi, however, stopped to admire the unusually tranquil morning. The Order's numbers were dwindling, because of the losses registered during the war, and now every pair of hands was precious.

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi made his way slowly through the hustle and bustle, towards the Council Chambers. Although he kept smiling and nodding politely to the various Jedi who saluted him, his thoughts were wandering very far away . . . towards his former apprentice.

"_Be wary of your friendship with Palpatine, Anakin."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because we are not sure of his intentions."_

"_He isn't a bad man, Obi-Wan."_

"_I am not so sure about that, Anakin. He has requested a meeting with you a few minutes ago."_

"_He did? Without informing the Council? That is unusual."_

"_Exactly what I was saying earlier. The Council wouldn't have agreed to appoint you as a member if it wasn't for your strong friendship with Palpatine."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Anakin, you must understand . . . I didn't come up with this. I'm on your side."_

"_With what?"_

"_Anakin . . . the Council wants you to report on all of the Chancellor's dealings. We want to find out what he is up to."_

"_You mean spy on him?"_

"_Yes."_

"_That's treason!"_

"_We are at war, Anakin!"_

"Master Kenobi? Master Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan pulled himself out of his thoughts, only to see a teenage girl, dressed in olive robes, with a short Padawan braid hanging on one side.

"Yes, Padawan Kazuya?"

"I have been asked to give this to you" she said, handing him a datapad. "It is Master Quinlan Vos' report, from Boz Pity."

"Thank you, Padawan" Obi-Wan said, taking the datapad from the girl's hand.

With a short bow, she disappeared in the stream of Jedi walking down the corridors.

Tucking the datapad in a pocket, Obi-Wan made himself focus his emotions.

_Get a grip, Kenobi, _he thought. _Anakin has never betrayed your trust and he certainly won't start now._

**x x x**

Anakin Skywalker strode down the same corridor as his master, towards the Jedi Council's chambers. And, as his master, his mind was filled with conflicting emotions. This was the third time when had had the horrifying nightmare of Padme dying during childbirth.

_I will not allow it to happen! Never!_

Ever since he had been only a child, the Temple had been his refuge, his Sanctuary. Whenever he and Obi-Wan arrived from particularly grueling missions, nothing compared to the peace and serenity he felt within these walls.

Now, however, the peace was gone, shattered, like a delicate crystal. His soul could not find serenity anywhere, whether it was the Room of a Thousand Fountains or a broom closet.

And what made his situation truly desperate was the fact that, when he had turned to his Jedi brothers for help, the only answer he received was to detach himself from that which he feared to lose.

_Never!_

Strengthening his shields, so that no one would feel his inner turmoil, he locked himself in his thoughts once more. No one understanded what he felt in these dark moments . . . no one except Palpatine, his mentor, that is.

"_The Dark side is a powerful aid to many abilities, some considered to be unnatural. Nevertheless, with the Dark Side, Darth Plagueis became so powerful, that he could stop those that he cared for from dying."_

"_Is it possible to learn this power?"_

"_Not from a Jedi."_

In many ways, Palpatine was right. The Jedi were holding him back, keeping him from fulfilling his true potential! And now, that there was a solid chance of actually ending the war, they weren't going to push him aside!

"_My agents tell me that General Grievous has been spotted, hiding in the Utapau system."_

"_Finally! We can kill that monster and end this war!"_

"_Indeed. I would doubt the collective wisdom of the Council if they didn't appoint you with this task. You are the best choice, by far."_

Palpatine was absolutely right! He was meant to finish the droid-General and end the Clone Wars once and for all!

And then . . . then he could have enough time to find out a way to save his beloved wife's life.

_I will not allow her to die! Even if it means giving my own life, my own soul, I will not lose her!_

Concentrating deeply on this fevering wish, Anakin squared his shoulders as he opened the doors to the Council chambers.

It was now or never!

**Author's Note: **Please, drop me a review and tell me your opinion of this story, be it good or bad.


	6. Parting of Brothers

The sixth chapter. Anakin's rebellious nature shows itself more clearly, when his desires are not fulfilled. Two brothers try to part on friendly terms, but resentment and jealousy are no easily pushed aside.

Enjoy!

**Chapter VI – Parting of Brothers**

On the large balcony of the Senate dome, hundreds of Senators, councilors and aids mingled with one another. The vast number of species found here made the Senate a true melting pot. All could be seen, from Twi'leks, to Gamorreans, Wookies and Cereans. Among these, two human figures stood apart, engrossed in what seemed like a captivating discussion. They spoke in low, hushed voices, so they could not be overheard.

"There has been much unrest in the Senate lately" said Senator and Viceroy of Alderaan, Bail Organa.

"It is understandable" responded Senator Padme Amidala of Naboo. "A vote granting more emergency powers for Palpatine is a very delicate matter."

"This war has gone for far too long." Bail shook his head slightly. "And the only effects have been that the Galaxy is more divided than ever and Palpatine has been slowly accumulating more and more powers. At this rate, he can be considered more of a dictator than a Chancellor in the truest sense of the word."

"Still, the Senate has been the one granting him the necessary votes" Padme argued.

"True. Tell me, Senator, have you numbered yourself among his voters?"

Padme took her eyes off from the endless lines of traffic to look at Bail, although she wasn't all that surprised by his question.

"Yes" she answered, honestly. "You must remember that my representative, Jar-Jar Binks, was the one who proposed the first granting of emergency powers to the Chancellor. Although it was his decision, it was done under _my _authority. Because Jar-Jar represented me in the Senate, every decision that he made fell under my authority. If I hadn't worked so hard in the years prior to the start of the war to build my political credibility, the initial vote would have never occurred."

"And, without being able to use the Clone Army, the Republic would have been at the mercy of the Separatists" Bail agreed. "But what of the other votes, during the last three years?"

Here, Padme's shoulders slumped slightly, but just for a second, before she straightened her posture once more.

"I agreed to these as well" she said, but on a more uncertain tone. "I thought that it was for the best, that it would ensure us closure. Now, when I look back . . . I realize that it might not have been such a wise decision."

Bail nodded, in understanding.

"The Chancellor's motives are harder to comprehend with each passing day."

"There were situations when he could have turned to negotiations, but in stead, he chose to remain on the path of war" Padme said, on a slightly disappointed tone of voice. "This whole war is a failure to listen and communicate between the two sides. If only we could set aside our differences and just _talk, _much of this unnecessary bloodshed would be avoided."

"Some of us feel that way as well" Bail answered cryptically.

"It is an unrealistic situation" Padme said, gazing at nothing in particular. "Palpatine's choices have made a peaceful resolution nearly impossible."

Bail continued to watch her, thoughtfully.

"Padme" he finally spoke "what do you think of the direction in which this Republic and its government are headed?"

The young woman turned to the raven-haired Viceroy, caught off guard. Not by the question, which was being pondered by every sentient being during the last year, but by the way in which it was posed. Bail had addressed her by her name, not her formal title. That could only mean that he desired the answer of a friend, not a fellow politician.

"Honestly" she said, slowly, choosing her words carefully "I have found myself in situations during which it nearly impossible to think. Or understand, for that matter. In the first few months of the war, everything changed so fast and I was forced to adapt in stride. One cannot allow too much analysis in his mind during such challenging times. As everyone began to slowly adapt to the new order, I kept wondering just _how _it came to this? How could an institution, which survived almost unmodified for tens of thousands of years, change so abruptly, over the span of a few months?"

Seeing as the woman fell silent, Bail asked:

"What conclusion have you reached?"

"That the catalyst behind these sudden changes has always been Palpatine. There was a time, long ago, when Naboo was in peril. Back then, I looked up at him. In my mind, he seemed to stand for all that was fair and just in the Republic. He was a ray of light in an ever darkening time."

"Do you still hold him in such high regard?"

"No. He has changed too much. Or maybe he has always been like this, but has been hiding his true intentions for the past thirteen years. Right now, I cannot be sure which is true."

Bail nodded, once more, watching his friend closely. Padme showed true courage by discussing such delicate matters in a place where there was a chance of being overheard. Shuddering, the Viceroy remembered what happened to Senator Othan Wiskhar of Bakura, who, just a few weeks ago, had the audacity to formally accuse Palpatine of malevolent intentions towards the state, in the middle of a Senate session! What ensued can be easily imagined: the Senator was accused himself of treason and allegiance with the Separatists. After an arranged trial, he was sentenced to spent the remaining day of his life on Nam Chorios, a barren, backwater planet in the Outer Rim, used as a prison colony.

"Senator Wiskhar's trial was only an act for the public" stated Padme. Obviously, she had been thinking of the same thing.

"Yes. Just an elaborate game, to keep up the pretense of democracy a little longer."

"Senator Amidala, may I have a word with you?"

Padme turned around, towards a tall, white skinned man.

"Yes, Senator Xui?"

"It concerns the bill stating Saleucami's next supply shipments for the army. You see, the demands have increased very much lately and . . . "

Padme waved her hand, interrupting his tirade. .

"You need not say more, Senator. I will be glad to help you."

Aanon Xui's face lit up with a small smile.

"Thank you, lady Amidala. I am in your debt."

Padme bid her goodbyes to Bail and joined Xui, towards the main chamber.

Watching her, Bail could not suppress a little chuckle. She was one of the few Senators that he knew who had kept her honest love and compassion for the Republic and its people. A politician with good intentions was a rare jewel these days.

"I see you have far more interesting activities to pursue than greeting a colleague."

Slightly startled, Bail looked at the speaker.

"Lady Mothma, I am never above greeting my friends" he said, amused.

"So I see."

Dressed in a silky, white robe, Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila was known throughout all political circles as one of the Republic's most devoted supporters. A somewhat stern and aloof woman, she was, nevertheless, a very capable representative and leader.

"How are the proceedings going?"

"Not as well as I'd have hoped" Bail, sighed, frustrated. "We have very few signatures. Without them, the Petition is worthless!"

"Have you talked to the representatives of Malastare and Ryloth?"

"Yes, I have. But you know Ask Ak. He's a firm believer of Palpatine. I couldn't tell him that much, fearing that he might denounce us all."

"And Orn-Free-Taa?"

"He is worried by the repercussions that could befall Ryloth if our group is discovered."

"All in all, we are standing still" Mothma said, leaning against the metal railing. "And we even haven't decided on an official spokesperson! Without someone strong to present the petition, all of our efforts will have been for naught!"

Bail placed his hands on his temples, wishing, for a few precious seconds, that all of this madness would simply fade away into nothingness, and the Republic would become once again the noble institution that he had sworn to serve. But it was a futile wish.

Coming out of his ruminations, Bail gazed at the round dome of the Senate.

"There is someone who could help us" he said, slowly.

"Who?" Mothma asked, after watching him in silence.

"Padme Amidala of Naboo. She has all of the necessary qualities."

Mothma appeared deep in thought for a few moments.

"But hasn't Senator Amidala been one of Palpatine's strongest supporters? Surely you remember that she called the vote of no confidence thirteen years ago?"

"I remember" Bail answered. "But right now, she is as mistrustful as us towards Palpatine's intentions. I have talked with her earlier."

"You know her far better than I, Bail. What kind of a person is she?"

"She's an idealist, always placing the needs of the people before her own. I've seen her make a lot of sacrifices in the last few years, all in the name of the Republic. She a natural-born diplomat, able to cope very well in tense situations. But, all the same, she isn't afraid of conflict. She may be a pacifist, but she has the heart of a warrior."

Mothma, nodded, slightly.

"Then it is decided. Contact Senator Amidala as soon as possible. I will speak to the members of the Loyalist Committee and we will decide our next course of action. We must act quickly, if we are to stop the sun from setting on the Republic."

Bowing, the two Senators departed, in separate directions.

**x x x**

The Council chamber, set atop the tallest tower of the Jedi Temple, was said to be a place of calm, whose members showed no other emotion than complete serenity. There couldn't have been a more untrue statement.

Today, the chamber was rife with determined voices, in the middle of an argument. Many of the Masters were off planet, on distant battlefields. They used holo transmitters to be able to actively take part in the session.

"So, General Grievous is on Utapau, then?" asked Master Ki-Adi Mundi.

"Yes" answered Anakin. "An encrypted message was found in a diplomatic package from the Chairman of Utapau."

The shimmering holo projection of Yoda frowned. The little Master was transmitting from Kashyyyk, the Wookie homeworld.

"Hmmm. Act on this, we must. To capture Grievous, quick and decisive we must be."

Straightening himself in his chair, Anakin prepared himself. This was it! The moment of truth!

"The Chancellor has requested that I lead the campaign" he said, on a casual tone.

"No" interrupted Mace Windu, firmly. "This decision belongs solely to the Council, not to Palpatine."

Anakin couldn't help the deep stab of resentment that he felt towards the dark-skinned man. As always, Mace Windu did not have any faith in his abilities.

"A Master is needed, with more experience" argued Yoda.

"I concur" intervened Mundi, stroking his beard. "Master Kenobi should go."

Obi-Wan was not that surprised at the proposition. He had expected his time on Coruscant to be short-lived.

"All those in favor say ay." Master Windu ordered.

"Ay" called Mundi.

"Ay" said Adi Gallia.

The same answer came from the other members of the Council, except Anakin.

"Then it is decided. Master Kenobi, you will be sailing with the Sixth Army towards Utapau in five hours."

"Of course" agreed Obi-Wan, with a rueful smile. "My hopes for rest and relaxation will just have to wait!"

This prompted a series of chuckles from the other Masters, as they rose from their seats.

"Anakin" Obi-Wan called toward his friend, but he was already heading out of the chamber, with determined strides.

"So stubborn", Obi-Wan murmured under his breath. He knew very well that his former apprentice desired to be the one to catch and eliminate Grievous.

_His abilities make him arrogant, _he had said, three years ago, and it was still true.

"You worry me, Anakin" he whispered, exiting the now empty chamber.

**x x x**

Padme settled herself on the sofa, getting as comfortable as her current condition would allow. Murmuring softly, she placed both of her hands on her very prominent stomach, covered with a soft green silk gown. She could feel the subtle movements of the life that slowly grew and took shape inside of her. He miracle that she and her husband had created.

Her husband . . .

Thinking about Anakin only succeeded in bringing even more worry into her troubled soul. His behavior in the last few days worried her. Because of those horrid dreams that he kept having, her husband acted very differently than his usual self. It had started first, with trying the dream a secret, but it quickly grew into something much more. There were times when she could _feel _him erecting a wall, a barrier around his soul, meant to keep everyone out . . . including herself.

_Don't do this. Don't shut me out. I want to help you._

She remembered the argument they had shared the day before all too clearly. It had started from politics, a subject where their opinions differed more and more. When she had tried to tell him her opinion of the way things were going, he proceeded to accuse her of thinking like a Separatist.

But that was not what wounded her the most.

No.

She had been hurt by his cold, almost icy demeanor, so different from the warm, caring young man that she had married three years ago. She asked him to hold her in his arms, to forget all about war, deception and intrigues, remembering only the purity of their love. He did so, and she had felt the wall crumble and disappear once more.

But it was only temporary. And she knew it all too well.

Soon, there would be another conflict and he would raise that barrier of ice between them. It was only a matter of time.

Placing her face in her hands, Padme sighed.

_Where have I gone wrong, Ani? How am I failing you?_

She raised her face, wiping her bitter tears, but, to her shock, she was no longer in her apartment, but in a wide room, with clear, white walls, large windows and a wooden floor. In the middle of the room, on a mat, stood a young woman, with her legs crossed, deep in meditation. Long, curly brown tresses fell on her back and shadowed her face.

Then, the only door in the room opened, to admit a tall man, dresses in black, from head to toe, with a cape draping his shoulders.

Padme's breath faltered, when she recognized him to be an older version of her husband. He had the same cerulean eyes and sandy curls, but she could also see subtle signs that betrayed his age, such as fine wrinkle lines and a few gray hairs at his temples.

The woman, sensing his presence, rose from her meditation position and unhooked a silver lightsaber hilt from her belt.

The older Anakin did the same, unfastening his cape and letting it fall to the floor. Then the two ignited their weapons, positioning themselves in battle stances.

Suddenly, the duel began, as the two launched lightning-quick strikes at each other, switching from offense to defense very frequently. Anakin wielded his cerulean lightsaber, but the young woman had a sun-yellow blade.

Padme watched the duel in awe. Never had she seen a more perfect moment. The two were moving with a seemingly flawless grace, in a deadly dance of battle. They appeared to know each other well, for none was surprised by a sudden shift in tactics by the other. They anticipated each other's move so completely, that it lead Padme to believe that their minds were linked, somehow.

"Miss Padme? Miss Padme?" resonated a voice.

Padme tried to keep her focus on the two duelists, but she felt the image slowly fade before her eyes.

"Miss Padme, are you all right?"

Blinking a few times, to get her bearings back, the woman looked at her concerned droid, C-3PO.

"Yes, Threepio, I'm fine. What is it?"

"I wanted to announce you that Senator Bail Organa has arrived and is requesting to speak with you."

"Tell him to come in."

Placing the vision/dream in the back of her mind, Padme composed herself, becoming the dignified Senator Amidala once again. There would be a time for solving riddles later.

**x x x**

Anakin walked briskly towards the take-off platform, hoping he wasn't too late. The Sixth Army set sail in fifteen minutes and he had to speak with Obi-Wan.

_Your former Master does not trust you, Anakin._

The young Jedi shook his head. This was the only thing that Palpatine told him with which he did not agree. Obi-Wan was his best friend, almost like a father to him. Surely, he wouldn't betray him, would he?

Shaking his head once more, he increased his pace. A pang of guilt was forming inside of him, for the way he had treated his mentor in the Council chamber.

"After all" he argued with himself "it isn't his fault that the Jedi Council has chosen him, not me."

Sighting Obi-Wan up ahead, Anakin almost broke into a run.

"Master!"

Obi-Wan turned around, surprised to see his former pupil standing in front of him, in a humble posture, with his head low.

"Master" he spoke, slightly out of breath. "Forgive me. I haven't listened to your teachings. I have been arrogant, and I am truly sorry. It is just that I have been so frustrated with the Council . . . "

Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder, to calm him down.

"It is all right, Anakin. You are truly a wise man. I have taught you all that I know and you already are a far better Jedi than I will ever hope to become."

The two smiled at each other, sharing a rare moment of fraternity. Anakin almost felt at peace for the first time in the last days and wished that the moment would last forever.

"Have patience" Obi-Wan continued, on a gentle tone. It will not take long before the Council makes you a Master."

Squeezing Anakin's shoulder, Obi-Wan ended the moment, when he was summoned to his shuttle.

Anakin watched him leave, the shadows of the hangar obscuring his face. As Obi-Wan got farther and farther, so did the young man's grip on the serenity that he had felt inside of himself just a moment ago, falter.

The smile died on his lips, as he felt the turmoil and conflict within himself start anew.


	7. Visions of the Darkest Night

Thank you very much for the reviews! They make me very eager to post updates as soon as possible.

Here, the focus shifts from Anakin to Obi-Wan and Padme, as both of them have to wage their own battles, each influencing Anakin's Destiny, without knowing it.

Unfortunately, my computer is on the fritz again and I will have to take it to the manufacturer, for urgent repairs. I don't know how much it will take. I will try to use someone else's computer, if possible. If not, we'll see each other in one or two weeks, it depends. :(

**Chapter VII - Visions of the Darkest Night**

If a place in the Galaxy could illustrate the saying _Sith Hell_, the Outer-Rim world of Mustafar was definitely it. Its surface was covered with imposing volcanoes and bottomless ravines, from where incandescent lava bubbled its way up to the surface. Crimson rivers dotted the dark landscape, adding to the planet's sense of foreboding.

Mustafar had no natural fauna of its own. Its extreme climate, however, was found to be an advantage by the Separatists, who had constructed an entire power plant, using the lava flows as a source for raw electricity.

Near the planetary command center stood a landing platform, with a beautifully crafted space ship ground atop it. But it was not the craft which could attract the eyes of onlookers, but the drama that was taking place near it.

A small, pregnant woman lay unconscious on the hard, ferrocrete surface. Unbeknownst to her, she was placed in the center of a titanic struggle, between Light and Darkness themselves.

Two men were slowly circling each other, their eyes never straying from one another. They looked like two hunters, ready to leap for the kill.

"You turned her against me!" Anakin yelled, fiercely.

"You did that yourself!" Obi-Wan retorted.

"You will not take her from me!"

"It is too late. Your anger and lust for power have already done that!"

Slowly advancing, Obi-Wan continued his verbal attack.

"You have allowed this Dark Lord to twist your mind, until now you have become all that you have sworn to destroy!"

"Don't lecture me, Obi-Wan!" Anakin spat. "I see through the lies of the Jedi! I do not fear the Darkside as you do!"

Turning around, he continued his raging tirade:

"I have brought peace, justice, freedom and security to my new Empire!"

Obi-Wan placed a quivering hand on Padme's temple, checking her pulse. Rising, the Jedi Master asked, incredulous:

"Your new Empire!"

"Don't make me kill you" growled Anakin, gathering the Darkness around him like a cloak.

"Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic, to _democracy_!" Obi-Wan yelled, the pain and anguish clearly distinguishable in his voice.

"If you're not with me, you're my enemy!"

"Only the Sith deal in absolutes" the older man, whispered, unhooking the lightsaber from his belt. "I will do what I must."

"You will try!" the young Sith snarled, gripping his own weapon.

And then they were at each other's throats, cutting and slashing with a speed never before thought possible.

Obi-Wan struggled to keep his ground in the face of Anakin's savage attacks. All around them, massive columns of lava were shooting skywards, but none of the two combatants paid them any attention.

Obi-Wan managed to land a solid kick in Anakin's solar plexus, knocking the younger man down, on the conference table. The Jedi Master swiftly brought his blade down, for the final strike, only to be intercepted by Anakin's lightsaber.

The two weapons cracked with energy, as both men pushed with all their might, each hoping for an advantage.

Obi-Wan's eyes met those of his former Padawan, but they were not how he remembered them. Gone was the beautiful, velvety, dark azure, replaced with a sickly yellow, burning with an inner, hellish fire.

_Anakin, what has happened to you? _He thought desperately, ignoring the pain in his arms. _What has happened to my brother?_

Obi-Wan kept hearing a low, buzzing sound in his ears, but he chose to ignore it. In that moment, taking advantage of his former friend's weariness, Anakin kicked him in the shins, throwing him off the table.

Obi-Wan landed on the floor with a thud and tried to regain his balance. However, it was not working. The buzzing was stronger and the entire room started to spin before his eyes.

He felt his skin being lashed with multiple sensations, from icy cold to searing heat.

Suddenly, a fireball seemed to blossom in front of his eyes, with a human being incased inside it. Horrified, Obi-Wan realized it was Anakin, burning alive!

"Anakin!"

Extending his hands, he tried to get past the wall of fire, only to have his palms scorched. Yelling, his pain matched Anakin's whose entire frame was now encased in flames.

"Anakin!"

With a start, Obi-Wan jumped up, only to whack his head on something hard.

"Ouww!" he grumbled, placing a hand on the top of his head. Remembering the flames, he instantly looked at his hands. But where he remembered to be blackened, burned tissue was only normal skin. The buzzing, however, remained.

Gazing around him, Obi-Wan saw that he was in a very narrow space, in front of a control pane. The cockpit of his starfighter!

Then he remembered! He was on his way to Utapau! It had only been a dream!

Breathing heavily, Obi-Wan leaned back in his seat, calming himself down.

_It was just a dream, nothing more. Just a dream with no meaning . . . _

But what if it wasn't? What if it was a premonition? A sighting of the future?

_Dreams pass in time._

He had said that to Anakin three years ago, but now he wasn't so sure anymore. A dark, foreboding feeling kept lingering somewhere in the back of his mind. Something monumental was going to happen . . . soon.

The buzzing started again, louder this time.

"What in the blazes?" Obi-Wan grumbled. A signal was blinking on his control panel. When he leaned in to inspect it, he discovered it was the arrival signal. Pulling a lever, he watched as the white streaks outside the glass canopy turned to stars once more, as the craft dropped from hyperspace.

In front of him lay a large mottled green-brown sphere. Utapau. For a few seconds, the entire Universe seemed to stand still, as if the world were drawing its breath before the plunge to the depths.

The stillness was broken, when, with low rumbles, the Battlecruisers of the Sixth Army materialized around Obi-Wan, blossoming into real space like a beautiful, but deadly flower.

Not wasting any time, Obi-Wan quickly opened a communication channel with the flag ship, _The Invictus. _

"What is it, Obi-Wan?" came Commander Cody's surprised question. After leaving Coruscant, they had agreed that Obi-Wan would land on planet and engage General Grievous, while the Army awaited an opportune moment to strike.

"There has been a change in plans, Cody" Obi-Wan said, seriously. "Gather the lieutenants in the conference hall. We're changing our strategy."

"Will do, General." Cody wanted to ask the Jedi Master just what prompted this sudden shift in tactics, but he knew his friend enough to know that he probably had a very important reason.

Setting his fighter on a course for _The Invictus'_ hangar bay, Obi-Wan pondered if it was the right thing to do. Pushing his doubts into the back of his mind, he focused on his only certainty: all of his senses were screaming at him full blast that he had to return to Coruscant as fast as possible, in order to avoid an impending disaster.

**x x x**

Coruscant seemed to have regained some of its peace after the sudden attack of the Separatists only days ago. There were still many scars left, that showed the ferocity of battle, but, in time, they would heal.

In his office, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine watched the repair crews making short work of the craters left by the falling artillery.

"You requested to see me, your Excellency?" asked Mass Amedda, with a deep bow.

"Yes, I have, Chairman" answered Palpatine, not turning from the window. "I wish to know if you have any new information regarding the members of the Loyalist Committee."

"No, your Excellency. They have been very, shall we say, _prudent _since the regional governors have taken up their duties."

"I see" Palpatine nodded. "But they will come out, sooner or later."

"I do not understand" said Amedda, with a puzzled expression on his blue face.

"It is quite simple, Chairman. They are preparing a Petition, formally asking me to renounce my emergency powers."

Mass Amedda looked very surprised at this, to say the least. Palpatine couldn't hide his smirk at the Chairman's surprise.

"I know almost everything that takes place in the Senate, Amedda" he said, on a tone that made the Chagrin representative feel a cold shiver run up his spine. "The only thing that I do not know is how many of them there are and who is their leader. But it will all reveal itself in time."

Amedda could only nod, wondering from the thousandth time why he had the suspicion that the Chancellor could see inside people's minds.

Picking up on his thoughts, Palpatine chuckled quietly. _If you only knew, you fool . . ._

Finally turning towards the Chairman, he spoke:

"Continue to keep the suspicious Senators under surveillance. I do not wish any unexpected surprises ruining the _rebirth _of this Galaxy."

There was a slight edge in his voice that made Amedda realize that he would lose more than his social position if he failed.

"It will be done, Milord" he said, exiting the room with another deep bow.

Palpatine resumed gazing out the window, with a satisfied smile cracking his thin lips. Indeed, all was going according to his design. Reaching out into the Force, he sought out a particularly bright presence. His smile grew even wider when he saw a frustrated young man, pacing about in the corridors of the Jedi Temple like a caged lion.

Yes, it was only a matter of time before the Galaxy and young Anakin Skywalker were his.

**x x x**

Unbeknownst to the plotting Chancellor, the leaders of the Loyalist Committee were holding a secret session at the very same time, inside Padme Amidala's apartment.

"His intentions" spoke Bail Organa, "have become clear when he assigned the law stating that the Galaxy would be split up in sectors, run by regional governors!"

"But he did specify it was a measure to be used only until the end of the war" said Chi Eekway, Senator of Wroonia.

Smiling sadly at Chi's naïveté, Senator Terr Tanel of Neelanon spoke softly:

"He is only saying that to appease us. Imagine what uprising would have taken place in the Senate if he had been blunt and said that he was practically taking everything left from us and turning the Chancellorship into a Dictatorship!"

Although her tone had been soft, Tanel's words made themselves heard to everyone in the small group.

"Senator Tanel" is right, acknowledged Mon Mothma. "Regardless of what we may feel inside ourselves, we must face the reality! We can't just keep hiding behind beautiful lies!"

Her voice was surprisingly harsh, as her eyes scanned everyone in the room, resting on Padme Amidala.

"The fact of the matter is, whether we like it or not, that, from a practical point of view, the Senate no longer exists!"

The silence after her hard words lasted a few minutes.

"What do you propose we do, Lady Mothma?" asked Senator Nee Alavar of Lorrd.

"A petition has been written be myself and Senator Organa. In it, we specify that many of the Chancellor's current attributes are a direct violation of many laws of the Republic. Through it, we wish to formally ask the Chancellor to relinquish his emergency powers and abolish the regional governors."

"Unfortunately, we do not have that many signatures" said Bail, dismayed. Many members of the Senate are much too loyal to Palpatine, while others fear for the safety of themselves, or their homeworlds. It truly is a sad sight to see the Senate ruled by fear."

A chorus of murmurs of approval sounded in the room.

"The second point of discussion on the agenda" continued Mon Mothma "is naming a representative, who will present the Petition to the Chancellor. We have already reached a decision. Therefore, I nominate Senator Padme Amidala of Naboo to be our official representative."

Everyone turned towards Padme, who had been silent, listening to what the others had to say. A flicker of surprise showed on her face, only to be hidden with the skill of an experienced diplomat.

"I am honored by this nomination, Senator Mothma. But do you truly believe that I am the best option?"

"By far" answered Bail Organa, with a reassuring smile. "Very few of us here can match you when it comes to persuasion."

"And the fact that you and Palpatine have shared such a close friendship is another advantage" added Senator Giddean Danu of Kuat. I anyone can persuade him to give up this mad quest for power, it is you, Senator Amidala. Everyone else has failed, including the members of the Jedi Council."

Padme stood silent for a few minutes, deep in thought, but when she looked at the others again, they could read the determination in her eyes.

"I formally accept the position of official representative" she said, on her most dignified tone. In moments like these, it could be clearly seen that she had been a Queen.

Bail Organa came forward, placing a datapad containing the Petition in Padme's hands. Picking up her stylus, the woman signed her name, adding it to the list of hundreds of others. Somehow, she felt, in the depths of her being, that she was writing a page of history, that she was giving a new chance to the future.

"What if Palpatine does not wish to give up all that he has gained?" she asked, setting the datapad on the table.

"Then" sighed Mon Mothma, wearily "we will have to use force. There won't be another way."

"We will form a fleet out of what our allied planets can give us" Bail said. "And it shall be known as _The Alliance to Restore the Republic._"

"The Rebel Alliance, in short" said Fang Zar of Sern Prime, with a quirky smile.

"These are dark times indeed, if we are to be considered as rebels and traitors by the very institution that we have sworn to serve" spoke Mon Mothma, grimly.

The room fell silent once more, as the Senators pondered their next move.

**x x x**

On the command deck of the Republican Battlecruiser _The Invictus, _General Obi-Wan Kenobi was explaining the next course of action to the clone Commander.

"We have to get Grievous out of the hole in which he is hiding" Obi-Wan said, on his clipped, Coruscanti accent. "The sooner we complete this mission, the better."

"But I don't understand" Cody spoke, genuinely perplexed. "What's the rush?"

"I had a vision" Obi-Wan explained, quietly. Things will turn out for the worse. Soon."

"Ahh, more Jedi mumbo-jumbo" laughed Cody, but instantly stopped when he saw the expression on his friend's face. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"As serious as I'll ever be" Obi-Wan answered somberly.

"Then I trust you completely. If I have learned something in this war, it is that, when you have a Jedi with you, especially if said Jedi is called Obi-Wan Kenobi, you had better listen to him!"

The two men smiled slightly, remembering all of their battles together.

"Well, boss, what's the plan?"

"We will have to give up all subtlety" Obi-Wan answered. "No more tricks and schemes. We hit them hard, with all our force, in order to rut them out of hiding."

"And then? What if they try to flee in hyperspace?"

"The cruisers will await the in orbit, laser canons at the ready."

"And Grievous?"

"I will take care of him" Obi-Wan said, grimly.

Obeying the General's commands, Cody quickly set about mobilizing the entire Sixth Army for the attack. In a few minutes, entire formations were streaming out of the cruisers' hangar bays and heading towards Utapau at top speed.

From the bridge of the flag ship, Obi-Wan watched the impressive display of military power, but his mind was wondering elsewhere . . . towards his brother, whose footsteps seemed to be clouded in Shadows

_Hold on, Anakin, _he sent through the Force. I'm coming."

No answer came.


	8. The World Is Aflame

Hi everyone, I'm back! You're not going to believe what happened when I took the computer for repairs on Saturday! One of the fans in the back kept making a strange noise. Thinking it was broken I took the whole CPU to the repair shop. The guys opened it for inspection, only to discover that something was stuck between the blades! A _plastic toy soldier_! I kid you not! One of my little brother's damn toys! How it managed to get in there is beyond me! I nearly blew when I discovered this was the reason I had to haul an entire computer halfway across the city!

The good part in this whole mess was that I could take it back home and continue writing. :)

**Eric2, **an answer to your question:You could call it an alternate ending for Episode III. The difference, however, is that "Revenge of the Sith" is only intended as the story's starting point. It will advance far into the future. _Sunset of the Republic _is the first part and I have the intention of publishing around a total of six parts. It will be a long story, as I have specified in the beginning. Please be patient with this eccentric writer, it will be worth it, I promise!

Anyway, here is the next chapter. The final battles of the war rage on, as the Galaxy slowly reaches its boiling point . . .

**Chapter VIII – The World Is Aflame **

**Planet Kashyyyk **

"All troops stand by!"

The voice of Jedi Master Luminara Unduli sounded above the sweeping breeze of the ocean. Atop a metal platform, she surveyed the units spread across the beach.

"Luminara" came Yoda's voice through the comlink, "how the defense goes?"

"The scouts report an incoming enemy wave, due to arrive any moment" she answered, keeping her senses alert.

"Careful, you must be" Yoda advised. "To lose this planet, we do not afford."

"Understood, Master."

Closing the connection, Luminara turned towards the Wookie Chewbacca, General Tarfful's second in command.

"Chewbacca, are the Wookie warriors in position?"

The Wookie answered with a modulated growl. "We are ready, Lady Jedi. The Separatists will not conquer Kashyyyk today!"

Nodding, Luminara took out her electrobinoculars.

"First line of attack approaching" she announced.

"What are they using?" asked a clone commando, setting the aim of his gun turret.

"Hover tanks, by the looks of it" she answered. "They're coming over the water."

"I don't like this" the commando said. "It gives them the advantage of free maneuver, while we're ground to this spot."

"Nonetheless, we must defend the beach" she retorted. "If we lose our hold here, we lose Kashyyyk as well. We do not afford that, soldier."

"Yes, Ma'am" the clone saluted, turning back to the infrared monitors. "Not one single droid will pass through here!"

Lowering the electrobinoculars, Luminara waited, along with the others, her senses registering everything around her. A few long minutes passed, in which the enemy assault force drew nearer and nearer. Everyone could now feel the unmistakable rumble and vibrations of hover engines.

"First line of artillery, get ready!" Luminara ordered.

At her command, numerous clone special units deployed heavy gun emplacements across the beach.

"We're all set, Ma'am."

"Chewbacca, what is General Tarfful's report?"

"He and the warriors will wait behind the ridges. If the droid forces pass through the artillery line, they will charge." the Wookie huffed.

"Good. Get ready! Here, we make our stand!"

The troops set their sites on the advancing enemy lines.

"Artillery, on my mark!"

The troopers swiftly loaded rockets into the launchers, taking aim.

"Fire!"

The rockets were launched with a deafening screech, bursting out from their sockets, towards the hover tanks. Several blasts rocked the beach, as the missiles found their marks, in blooming explosions.

"Here they come!"

The hovertanks which managed to escape the artillery's onslaught burst out of the water, towards the Republican defense force.

"No one passes through here!" shouted Luminara. With a lightning-fast move, she ignited her emerald lightsaber, flinging herself from the platform onto the ground, slashing three droids with a single move.

The troopers followed their commander, launching a volley on blasterfire on the Separatist forces.

"No one passes through here!" the clone troopers chanted in unison, when they managed to destroy yet another hovertank.

Plunging her weapon in the innards of a battledroid, Luminara spun around, severing it in two pieces. Twirling it end over end, she deflected several blaster shots back to their sources.

"Behind you!"

At Chewbacca's roar, Luminara threw herself on the sand, being narrowly missed by a magna droid's electrostaff. Rolling over, she kicked the droid's legs from under it, making it topple to the ground. Gripping the hilt of her weapon, she thrust it into the droid's ocular receptors. They blinked once and faded.

Luminara, however, had no time to feel relief, as another magna droid approached her, electrostaff at the ready.

Gathering the Force around her, Luminara sent a wave that hit the droid head-on, making it fly several meters, only to be impaled on a formation of sharp rocks.

"Are you all right, lady Jedi?" asked Chewbacca, as he fired at the enemy with his bowcaster.

"I'm fine" answered Luminara, brushing the sand from her robes. Surveying the battlefield, she noted, to her dismay that the Separatist's fierce attack had managed to break the defense line in several points. Everywhere, clone troopers were retreating in a general mess.

"Chewbacca, where are Tarfful and the rest of the Wookies?"

"They will come" he answered, using his strength to rip a droid's head off its shoulders.

"I pray that you are right". Luminara deflected another series of bolts. "I do not know how much we will be able to hold our ground anymore!"

In that moment, the harsh sound of a war horn tore through the air. From behind a ridge emerged several hundred Wookies, armed to the teeth, with General Tarfful in front of them.

"For the Republic!" he roared. "No one passes through here!"

The warriors charged, with mighty cries, destroying all opposition that stood in their path.

"No one passes through here!" they sang, with deep growls, tearing through the Separatists.

T o Luminara, it seemed as an entire brown tempest had been unleashed from above, so fierce were the Wookies in their advance.

Seeing their audacity, the Republic troops stopped retreating.

"To me!" called Luminara, her voice rising above the din. "Renew the attack! Push them back!"

Invigorated by the turn of the tables, the troopers gathered behind their Commander, forming a tight group.

"Onward!"

Amongst the infernal noise of blasts and explosions, the Republican force charged alongside the Wookies. the two factions stood unbeatable, as they combined their strength. No matter how the Separatists shifted formations, they couldn't stop the onslaught that was raining atop them. Many watched helplessly, as the joint armies tore through the formation like bread through butter.

"I will _not _let a feeble Jedi defeat me!" the Separatist Commander growled, a green skinned Trandoshan. He had watched the battle unfold, from the safety of his personal hovertank. Now, however, the enemies were closing dangerously on his position, and he wasn't going to let them win.

"Activate torpedo turrets!" he ordered in his comlink.

"Roger, sir!"

Tarfful gripped two droids, smashing them together with tremendous force. The large Wookie dodged another foe, only to sever him in three with his cortosis blade.

"I'm glad you've joined us, General" Luminara greeted him, finishing another strike.

"It is an honor to fight alongside you, Master Unduli" he answered. "I will be glad when we could meet in much peaceful situations."

"I as well" the woman said. Her eyes kept scanning the immediate vicinity, in search of any possible threats. Then, her gaze shifted towards the horizon, and she froze.

"What is it?" asked Tarfful, noting her rigid posture.

"General" she commanded, slowly, "order all of your warriors to head for cover!"

"What has happened?"

"The Separatists are using their trump card."

Following Luminara's line of sight, Tarfful saw a chain of hovertanks, each deploying several torpedoes, ready for launch.

"Get down!" roared Tarfful, nearly deafening Luminara. "Now!"

The Wookies, sensing their leader's urgency, immediately dropped to the ground, followed by the clone troops.

Rumbling, several torpedoes were launched, screeching towards the Republic lines. Gripping Luminara tightly, Tarfful threw both of them on the sand, as a torpedo sped above them.

With powerful blasts, the missiles impacted with the trees beyond the beach, setting the entire surrounding forest ablaze.

The troopers and Wookies picked themselves up, when the danger seemed to have passed.

"They want to conquer Kashyyyk at all costs!" Tarfful snarled, pained to see the mighty Wroshyr trees of his homeworld burn and die in the scorching inferno.

"Just as they want to conquer the Galaxy" Luminara whispered, sadly shaking her head. "It does not matter that they will burn and destroy most of it, as long as they are victorious!"

The Jedi-Master's words were drowned out, as a new wave of torpedoes was launched. This one, however, was more accurate, and many missiles landed in the middle of the troops, causing death and destruction on a mass scale.

Luminara tried with all of her might, to contain the rising bile inside her stomach, as she smelt the burned fur and saw the contorted corpses of once breathing-living soldiers.

"Incoming!" roared Chewbacca, snapping Luminara's attention in front of her, to another missile, which was heading straight for her.

Banishing all thoughts from her memory, Luminara closed her eyes, completely immersing herself in the all-encompassing flow of the Force. Molding the energy into her body, the woman focused towards the hurtling torpedo, wrapping it in small tendrils of energy. Concentrating, she focalized her strength on changing the projectile's direction.

All those around Luminara saw a breath-taking scene: the woman closed her eyes, extended her palms outward and, suddenly, the torpedo altered its course only meters from her. Its engines whining against the stress, the torpedo turned around, hurtling towards one of the hovertanks.

"Noi-gitat!" swore the Trandoshan Commander, but it was too late. The missile slammed into his hovertank, vaporizing it in a fiery explosion.

"Te enemy commander is down!" shouted a clone sergeant. "I repeat, the enemy commander is down!"

"Then it is time to finish them once and for all!" Tarfful snarled, gripping his blade with both hands.

"Forward!" ordered Luminara, sharply. "Press the attack!"

It was truly a sight to see, as the beleaguered Republican forces dragged themselves out of the ashes, charging in one last assault upon the droid army. The joint forces fought with such frenzy, that none could stop their advance. With their commander dead, all that the droid troops could do was to try and flee from the onslaught of Republicans were now practically raining atop them, with mighty war cries.

From his platform, high in a Wroshyr tree, Yoda surveyed the final moments of the confrontation. His ears were drooped, a testimony to the pain he felt seeing loss of life on such a scale. His green features were illuminated by the flames of the inferno which had now claimed the entire forest.

The tiny Master placed a clawed hand on his forehead, sighing wearily. How many lives would be lost and how much of the Galaxy would burn before the war's end?

**x x x**

**Planet Coruscant**

In his office, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine read the latest reports from the front lines. Or, at least, he pretended to read them, for he already knew all of the details before they were publicly announced.

_A small advantage of leading a war on both sides,_ he thought to himself, smirking wickedly.

His aide, Sly Moore, entered the room, interrupting his dark ruminations.

"Milord" she said, in a cold, chilling voice, "a group of representatives has arrived."

"What do they want?" he asked, not bothering to keep the disdain out of his voice.

"They represent the Loyalist Committee" Moore answered.

At this, Palpatine's face seemed to light up slightly, as he smiled tightly.

"Send them in, Madam Moore."

The woman bowed to the ground, exiting through the ornate doors, only to enter once more, followed by a small group of Senators.

"Come in, come in" beckoned Palpatine, on his smoothest voice. "Leave us."

Sly Moore bowed once more and left the room.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of such an unexpected visit?" he asked, taking note of all the Senators. He saw Terr Tanell of Neelanon, Gilddean Danu of Kuat, Nee Alavar of Lorrd, Male Dee of Uyter, Fang Zar of Sern Prime and, standing in front of them, as the leader, Padme Amidala of Naboo.

"We have urgent matters to discuss, Chancellor" Padme answered.

"Of course" agreed Palpatine, amicably, motioning toward a few chairs. "Do sit down."

When all of the Senators had taken a seat, Palpatine asked:

"I hope no more bad news have been relayed from the front. We have already lost too many planets."

"This does not concern the war" intervened Danu, grimly.

"Then what crisis would bring such distinguished members of the Senate to my office?" he asked, keeping his tone nonchalant.

"We wish to address you a request" explained Nee Alavar.

"A request? And just what might that be?"

"We hereby formally ask you to renounce all of the executive and emergency powers that you have gained during the war" Padme requested, handing him the datapad, "and to abolish the regional governors which have been appointed throughout the Galaxy."

Palpatine studied the datapad intently, in silence.

"The Petition contains 2.000 signatures, collected from members of the Senate who are very worried by the direction in which the Chancellorship is heading."

Palpatine placed the datapad on his desk, slowly turning towards the Senators.

"My friends" he said, on a warm, fatherly tone, "you do not understand what would happen if I was to renounce my powers now."

"What would happen? Male Dee asked, skeptically.

"All that we have achieved in this war would be for naught! Without a central authority to command and govern the clone armies, we would have chaos on our hands. If I was to give control of the army back to the Senate, it would cause endless disputed, bickering and infighting amongst the Senators. It would be practically impossible to plan our moves against the Separatists!"

"Still, you do know that in using your authority to promote such harsh decisions, as the naming of the regional governors, you undermine the authority of the Republic itself!" Padme argued, not relenting.

"I am aware of that, Senator Amidala" he answered, meeting Padme's gaze head-on. "The regional governors are only intended as a safety mechanism. With personal representatives spread throughout the Galaxy, I can survey the Separatist's every move and ensure the safety of the citizens, bypassing the Senate's endless stalling and birocracy."

"That doesn't change the fact that this decision is a major blow to the ideals of democracy!"

"I have anticipated such a reaction before giving the order" Palpatine sighed. "That narrow-minded Senators would perceive my intentions to be selfish and self-serving, when, in fact, they are a sacrifice made for the Galaxy and the Greater Good."

Fixing Padme with an unblinking stare, he continued, adding a small dose of disappointment into his voice:

"I believed you to be more-open minded and above such petty conspiracy theories, Senator. I was wrong."

"We are not accusing you of any kind of malevolent thoughts toward democracy" chimed in Fang Zar for Padme, who was at a loss for words.

"Then what are your grievances, exactly?"

"We only wish the Republic to follow its own course again" explained Terr Tanel. "With no interference from any kind of disrupting factors."

"Ah, so now I am perceived as a disrupting factor?" Palpatine asked, with an edge in his voice. "You seem to forget that all the sacrifices I have made during this war have been solely for the well being of the Republic and its citizens!"

"None of us doubt that" Padme countered, finding her strength once more. "But, truth be told, everything has gone too far, Chancellor!"

"I agree, Palpatine answered, rising from his chair. "But, as I have said before, my hands are bound!"

Focusing his intense gaze on every member of the group, he said, on a sharp tone:

"And I will _not _risk the security of the institution which I am leading just because of a few technical details and biased rumors!"

The room fell silent, as the Senators listened to the Chancellor's powerful and charismatic voice.

"I have made a promise three years ago and I intend to keep it! Once this war is over and the Republic is safe, I will renounce my powers. But not a second sooner!"

Palpatine turned away from them and toward the window, making them understand that the meeting was over.

**x x x**

**Planet Utapau**

The blue skies of Utapau had once been clear, like an azure sea.

Today, however, they were darkened by the sheer numbers of fighters and gunships descending from space.

Aboard an armored skiff, Commander Cody surveyed the assault with a critical eye.

"Sir, can we rely on the natives for support?" asked a trooper who was standing near the Commander.

"Yes. General Kenobi has contacted the Utapauan Prime-Minister, informing him of the attack. They are to take the women and children to safety, while the warriors aid us."

"Sir, we're approaching the enemy base" announced the pilot of the skiff.

"Good. Keep her steady, soldier!"

Turning to the troopers around him, Cody ordered, opening the side doors:

"Get your cords ready and prepare to rappel down!"

"Yes, sir!"

The soldiers swiftly obeyed the order, wrapping steel cords around their waists.

"On my mark!" Cody said, surveying the landscape below him. "Three . . . two . . . one."

The troopers tightened the grips on the cords and their weapons.

"Now!"

In an instant, twenty men, clad in white armor jumped from the craft, lowering themselves on the steel ropes.

Seeing the descending invasion force, the droids below began to open fire.

"Return fire!" ordered Cody, blasting a droid with his disruptor rifle.

The men obeyed, launching such a thick barrage of blasterfire upon their enemies, that no droid was left whole on the landing pad when their feet touched the ferrocrete.

Watching other teams follow his example and rappelling the soldiers inside the sinkhole, Cody turned to his team:

"Let's move, men! The others will take care of the enemy defense force. Our targets are Grievous and the Separatist Leaders!"

Following their Commander, the troopers started clearing a path toward the command center.

"Boss? I think they're up they're up there" a scout pointed to a ledge two levels higher. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Get them out of the hole in which they're hiding" Cody answered, smiling behind his mask.

Ripping the cork of a frag grenade, he tossed it up, on the ledge.

"This should brighter things up!" he said, smirking.

General Grievous was pacing in front of the Separatist leaders. From the tight squaring of his shoulders, it was quite clear that he was very tense.

"The Republic has managed to find us" he said, on his raspy voice. "For your safety, I am sending you all to the Mustafar system . . . "

"Grenade!" shrieked Viceroy Nute Gunray.

Grievous whirled around, only to see a frag grenade in the middle of the floor. Using his legendary reflexes, the droid General dropped to the ground, mere seconds before the grenade went off. The Separatists, however, weren't so fast.

The grenade blew, with a deafening sound, hurtling bits of shrapnel everywhere. The Separatists, not having time to evade, were hit in full and screamed in agony as the pieces of razor-sharp metal tore through them.

After the first grenade came another three, going off in succession and devastating the platform.

Taking advantage of the general pandemonium, Grievous broke into a sprint for his starfighter, concealed by the heavy smoke.

Mere minutes after the General's departure, Cody and his team managed to blast through the doors and onto the wrecked platform. Everywhere they looked, they could see charred droid parts and dead or dying Separatists.

"Commander, behind you!"

Cody turned, coming face to face with the bloody, crumpled form of Nute Gunray, who was trying desperately to crawl away.

"No you don't!" huffed the soldier, pumping several bolts in the Viceroy's chest, to make sure that he was dead.

"It's all clear" announced a trooper. "They're all dead."

"Any sign of Grievous?"

"None, sir."

Cody swore under his breath, loading his weapon. "We've lost him!"

"Hands up, Republic scum!"

The troopers turned to see several dozen magna droids enter the room, armed with electrostaves.

"Any ideas, Boss?" asked a soldier.

"We fight to the death, trooper" Cody said, fiercely, gripping a thermal detonator from his belt.

"Not if I have anything to say about it!"

Many droids were pushed off the ledge, as a man dressed in brown robes and wielding a blue lightsaber landed neatly alongside the troopers.

"Obi-Wan!" Cody exclaimed, not hiding his relief. "You seem to make a habit out of saving my skin!"

"All in a day's work, old friend!" Obi-Wan said, slicing down another droid.

Cody turned to his troops.

"Fire at will, men! Let's give the General a helping hand!"

Soon, through the joined efforts of Obi-Wan and the clones, the platform was devoid of any magna droids.

"I'm afraid we lost Grievous" Cody told Obi-Wan, but his words were drowned out by the loud whine of repulsor engines as a large, gray starfighter began its ascent.

"It's Grievous! He's getting away!"

"I'll stop him!" Obi-Wan said, jumping off the ledge and into the cockpit of his starfighter. Gunning the engines, he threw the craft into a wild chase, hot on Grievous' heels.

Cody watched the two ships climb through the atmosphere at breakneck speed. The red light of sunset reflected off the fuselages, making it seem as though the craft were a pair of phoenix birds, set aflame.


	9. Chase toward the Fading Sun

I am so sorry! I couldn't update sooner because this week of school has been total madness, with the end of term coming up and all. It seems that all of the teachers are out for blood now! With all of the chaos blooming around me, I was able to write only in short intervals, at night.

Horrific math classes aside, the silver lining of this dark cloud is that the summer vacation is only a few short days away! Then I will be able to post at my heart's pleasure!

Before I forget, thank you for the wonderful reviews! They make me very compelled to make sure that everything in this story is top notch and that no one is disappointed!

The ninth chapter is finally here! The countdown begins, as Obi-Wan frantically tries to reach his former Padawan before it is too late . . .

**Chapter IX – Chase toward the Fading Sun**

_The Sun kept setting, setting still  
No hue of Afternoon  
Upon the Village I perceived  
From house to house 'twas Noon._

_The Dusk kept dropping, dropping still  
No Dew upon the grass  
But only on my Forehead stopped  
And wandered in my Face._

_How well I knew the Light before  
I could see it now  
'Tis Dying, I am doing, but  
I'm not Afraid to know._

**Emily Dickinson**

As the sun dropped low, towards the zenith, two silhouettes could be distinguished, chasing one another through the bloody veil, in a dance of skill and luck. Two ships, whose pilots were battling one another with all of their might.

Obi-Wan turned sharply to the right, clipping Grievous' aft wing with his own, hoping to send the droid General into a spin. No such thing happened, as Grievous, anticipating Obi-Wan's move, dropped low and under the Jedi's starfighter.

"He likes to play hard to get" ObiWan noted, dryly. "But two can play at this game, right R4?"

The astromech chirped loudly and Obi-Wan looked at the console for the translation.

"Don't worry; we won't do anything very risky. Unlike _some_ pilots, I enjoy keeping all of my limbs intact!"

Chuckling at the reference to his former student's reckless flying, Obi-Wan opened the thrusters wider, using the momentum to propel him from atop Grievous, who was aiming his torpedoes, in an attempt to blast his enemy from the sky.

"Oh, no you don't!" Obi-Wan grumbled, swerving and dodging, making it practically impossible for the other to get a lock.

"Stand still, blasted Jedi!" Grievous roared, slamming his controls in frustration. "I'll get you yet!"

Thumbing several switches, he started to fire erratically ahead, hoping that one of the laser beams would hit his quarry.

"Now I'll definitely quit flying for good!" Obi-Wan grumbled, as he dove for the surface, to avoid being blasted to a million pieces.

One shot, however, managed to hit his left engine. An alarm began to sound in the cockpit, as numerous systems went critical.

"Blast!" he swore, gripping the controls tighter. The fighter began to rapidly lose altitude and Obi-Wan fought to keep it from going into a potentially fatal spin.

"Arfour, do something about that engine!" he ordered, dodging between two stone pillars, with Grievous still in pursuit.

"Bloo dwoo" the droid whined, on a high pitch.

"That's just great!" Obi-Wan sighed. "I can't keep this up much longer!"

Grievous continued to give chase and grinned predatorily when he saw Obi-Wan's predicament.

"You are going down, Jedi!"

Finally managing to get a lock from the targeting computer, he launched a proton torpedo straight at Obi-Wan's craft.

As a second alarm began to blare, warning him of the danger, Obi-Wan looked behind him.

"Not this again!"

Turning to left and cutting the engines, Obi-Wan allowed the missile to pass by the craft. He didn't get to feel relief, however, as the torpedo turned around, homing in on its target again.

"The Force help me" Obi-Wan whispered, as he drew on the current of life energy, letting it guide his hands, as he engaged in a series of dizzying turns and twists.

"Woooo!" chirped Arfour, alarmed at the death-defying moves that were almost negating the laws of physics.

Obi-Wan ignored the frightened astromech and focused in front of him. Just ahead, he could see the entrance into a rocky canyon. If he could play his cards right, maybe he would make it out of this ordeal alive.

Taking a deep breath, the Jedi Master weaved the currents of the Force around him and his ship. Pushing the controls to their limits, he entered in a corkscrew spin, shooting through the canyons entrance. The torpedo tried to follow him, but its servodirectors were confused by the wild move and it hit the canyon face, shattering it with a powerful boom.

Pulling on the controls, Obi-Wan struggled to pull out of the spin, but none of the systems responded to his commands. He watched as the ground approached with a nauseating speed.

"Not good!" he yelled, calling upon the Force once more, with the remaining vestiges of his waning strength. The craft hit a stone wall with a deep thud, but it managed to level up, forced by the Master's will.

From his craft, Grievous watched the entire scene, gritting his teeth.

"Jedi slime!" he growled. "You will not survive the next one!"

But when he pushed the fire button, to his chagrin, he discovered that he had no more torpedoes left.

In his starfighter, Obi-Wan watched as Arfour make the necessary repairs to the engine.

"Very good, Arfour! Now, let's get moving!"

Pulling on the steering yoke, he directed his fighter in a tight loop, going over Grievous and landing near his tail.

"Now it's your turn!"

Aiming, Obi-Wan opened fire upon the General's craft, who struggled to dodge.

Making an unexpected move, Grievous angled the nose of his ship straight up, streaking toward space.

"What is he doing?" Obi-Wan asked, as he quickly followed.

Arfour beeped and Obi-Wan turned his eyes at the computer to read the translation:

"_He will try to jump into hyperspace_. No! We can't lose him!"

Pushing hard on the throttle, Obi-Wan accelerated. He was roughly pushed in his seat by the tremendous forces of gravity. The altimeter began to climb sharply, as the navicomputer displayed the increasing G forces.

Obi-Wan felt all of his blood rush into his legs, as the display reached 6 G's. His vision started to blur, the blackness encroaching faster and faster.

"Bloo woo!" Arfour screeched. With his head ringing, Obi-Wan squinted his eyes to see the words on the console: "Slow down! The human body cannot cope with forces above 7 G's! You will pass out! Slow down!"

Groaning, Obi-Wan fought against the pressure and raised one of his hands, reaching for the controls. But, as his fingers managed to clutch onto a switch and he was going to decelerate, his already fading sight blurred even more, as if he were looking at the world through an opaque piece of glass. He saw only one thing clearly: Anakin's face contorted by rage, his hair an unruly mess and his eyes the same deathly yellow.

_You underestimate my power!_

His raging, hollow voice echoed in Obi-Wan's ears for a few seconds and then the image disappeared in thin air, as though it had never been.

Obi-Wan stood frozen, his fingers glued to the switch.

_If you slow down now, _a small voice inside of him spoke, _you will lose Grievous. You will have to continue pursuing him through the Galaxy. You will not be able to return to Coruscant at the moment of Choice. And the Future will be lost._

Making a very fast decision, Obi-Wan's hand let go of the switch. Instead, he opened a panel, taking out an oxygen mask.

"Arfour" he said in a strangled whisper, "open engines at maximum power."

The astromech proceeded to object adamantly.

"It will be all right" Obi-Wan said, clamping the mask over his features. "Jedi can endure much more than your average pilot. Don't worry about me!"

With a small bleep of acceptance, Arfour fed all of the craft's power to the engines. With a thundering roar, it shot upwards, at an incredible speed.

Obi-Wan held both is hands over the oxygen mask, drawing deep breaths, to keep him from passing out from the increasing pressure.

Grievous, hearing the noise behind him, looked back, only to see a red and white comet headed straight for him!

"That Jedi is insane!" he yelled, alarmed. Pushing a few buttons, he increased the speed as well, to avoid a near collision with the other's starfighter.

The two craft continued their wild ascent. Around them, the light blue of the sky turned darker and darker, until it had turned pitch black.

Obi-Wan felt the restraints rub against his arms as he began to slowly float out of his chair. They were in space. The feeling of weightlessness, however, lasted only a few seconds, as the ship's gravity generator kicked in, sending Obi-Wan crashing back in the chair.

"I wish it would stop doing that!" he grumbled, ripping the oxygen mask off his face and tossing it on the floor.

Arfour chirped once more, to get his attention.

"Yes, Arfour, I do have a plan, I'm not flying blindly here. Hold on!"

Turning his craft to the right, he forced Grievous to make the same maneuver, to keep from being rammed in the side.

Obi-Wan continued the pursuit, but his eyes scanned the space ahead intensely.

"There!" he exclaimed, when, at last, he sighted the Battlecruisers of the Sixth Army.

Opening the comm. channel, Obi-Wan asked:

"Lieutenant Delos, are you there?"

"Yes, General Kenobi. What is it?"

"I'm tracking an enemy craft very near your location. After I get in into position, I want you to pull it in with the tractor beam. It must not escape!"

"Yes, General!"

Closing the connection, Obi-Wan turned sharply once more, adjusting his course toward the Fleet.

From within the cockpit of his fighter, Grievous sighted the cruisers and immediately understood Obi-Wan's plan.

"Think again, General!" he cackled, flipping a few switches in quick succession.

Obi-Wan's entire body tensed, when he saw the familiar bluish tint surrounding his enemy's ship. He was preparing to jump.

"You won't be able to jump without engines!" Taking careful aim, Obi-Wan waited until the crosshair turned green and fired off a quick burst of laserfire. It hit both of Grievous' engines, setting them ablaze.

The droid General roared in anger, hitting the console with his fist and shattering it.

"Lieutenant, get a lock on his ship and pull him in."

"Understood, General!"

Obi-Wan watched as a blue beam shot forth from _The Invictus_, dragging the battered vessel into the hangar bay.

"It's done, Arfour" he sighed, setting course for the hangar bay.

The two ships landed neatly on the polished floor. Obi-Wan opened his glass canopy and climbed out. Near him, a contingent of clone troopers had surrounded Grievous' fighter.

"Sir, what shall we do with him?" Lieutenant Delos asked, pointing toward the enemy craft.

"Get him out of there."

The troopers, however, could not obey the Jedi Master's command, as Grievous opened him own canopy and jumped down, igniting four luminescent sabers and cutting down several soldiers.

"This fight is between me and you, Kenobi!" he snarled, holding the blades in offensive position.

"Everyone, back away" Obi-Wan ordered the troops. "If he wants a duel, then a duel he will get!"

The soldiers obeyed their General's command and stepped to the side.

"Very honorable of you, Kenobi" Grievous chuckled. "Attack!"

"Your move" Obi-Wan said, politely.

"You fool!" Grievous cackled. "I have been trained in your Jedi arts by Count Dooku!"

Then Grievous started advancing, with two blades extended outwards and spinning the other two like mill wheels.

_Definitely not good!_ Thought Obi-Wan, as he retreated slowly from the droid menace.

**x x x**

The Sun was setting slowly over Coruscant. It was an unusually spectacular sight, as everything was bathed in a breathtaking spectrum of crimson shades. Not all of the planet's denizens were enjoying its beauty. Some had far more darker thoughts lingering in their minds and turning the surreal image into a symbol of Death.

The empty halls of the Jedi Temple echoed with the heavy footfalls of one particular member of the Order. Anakin Skywalker walked slowly, without a particular aim. His posture was very different from that which everyone had become accustomed to: his shoulders were no longer squared, but slumped, his head was held low as his eyes trailed along the floor instead of paying attention in front of him. Everything in the way he carrier himself told any possible onlookers that something grave had happened.

_And they would be right, _Anakin thought grimly.

The revelation in Palpatine's office still lingered in his mind; the Chancellor's words still poisoned his ears, no matter how much he struggled to bury and forget them.

"_My Mentor taught me everything about the nature of the Force, even the Darkside."_

"_You know the Darkside?"_

"_Anakin, if one is to understand the great mystery, one must study all its aspects, not just the narrow, dogmatic view of the Jedi. If you truly wish to become a complete and powerful leader, you must embrace a wider view of the Force."_

That had been only the first shock. After a few moments, he realized that Palpatine had been the Sith Lord who had plagued the Republic for the past thirteen years. His words, however, had managed to shake him to his very core:

"_Only through me can you achieve a power greater than any Jedi. Only then will you be able to save your wife from certain death."_

That had been the clincher, the drop that filled the glass. He had snapped, igniting his saber. But he couldn't strike Palpatine down. He couldn't. The anger and hate which he had felt burning inside his soul in those moments had been almost blissful. But they were against everything that he had been taught for half of his life.

_Why am I so weak? _He raged inside of himself. _Why do I have to lose everything that I hold dear because of my incompetence?_

Words that he had said three years ago, in a night of horror still haunted him:

_Someday, I will be the most powerful Jedi ever! I will learn even how to stop people from dying!_

But he hadn't learned. Not even to this day did he know the secret of cheating Death. And the one man who knew . . . was at the mercy of those whom he didn't trust at all.

The Jedi.

_I'm a Jedi! I know I'm better than this!_

The words came flooding back. The words after which he had cried, only to be comforted by his angel.

But he wasn't. He was the Chosen One and yet he was no better than any common man in the Galaxy. The irony of it all was that his Destiny was bringing Balance to the Force, when he couldn't even balance his own Soul!

The only time he truly felt content and happy, safe from the sinister demons that lurked in the depths of his being, was in the tender, loving embrace of his wife. She was his haven, his sanctuary, the link keeping him in the Light. If she should perish . . .

Anakin's whole body shuddered as he instantly killed the unwanted thought.

_No! It will never happen! I will not allow it!_

All of his pent up anger and frustration were slowly choking him. For too long the had dwelt inside of him, festering until it was impossible to remove the without destroying himself in the process. Now he didn't feel powerful or focused, as Palpatine had told him. He felt ravaged. Tormented, as his inner battle raged on.

With a howl of desperation, he focused on the blackness he saw more often lately. He felt a tendril of dark energy respond to his call. I was cold. Chilling, even, like the touch of the dead. Unnatural and twisted. But Anakin was past caring.

Gripping the tendril, he pulled it hard toward him. It swiftly responded, obeying its powerful Master. More and more black threads converged on his being. He felt their coldness. And their power. Raw, unbridled power. There were so many now, that he could feel them eclipsing his luminous soul, wrapping themselves around it.

Bending his will outwards, he sent a bolt of dark energy. It struck a very large decorative vase, shattering it with an ear-splitting boom, which echoed down the empty hallways.

Anakin was awakened from his frenzy by the noise. He looked and saw, to his horror, the destruction which he had caused. The entire vase had been blown into millions of tiny fragments, which were spread across the floor of the entire hall. What had he done? What was he becoming?

As quickly as it came, the darkness retreated in its shadowed corners, knowing that it would be called upon once more. Soon.

Drawing a sharp breath, Anakin shook his head violently, to get rid of the blackness that still seemed to linger in front of his eyes like a veil. He stepped carefully over the shards, but many cracked under his feet. What was happening to him? Why couldn't he muster even the smallest amount of self-control?

Slowly, he made his way toward the Council chambers. When he finally entered the round room, he collapsed in his chair, his legs caving beneath him.

All around, the room was lit by the reddish hue of the sunset. The rays rested on Anakin's face, but he couldn't feel their warmth. All he felt was cold and numb, as if something inside himself had been extinguished. In the depths, he could still feel the black flame burning, yearning, calling to him, a dark ambrosia to his soul.

Placing his head in his hands, Anakin closed his eyes tightly, wishing that the world would fade away, that the pain would die and that the dark would retreat from the Hell from whence it came. But no such hope materialized. And he continued to stand alone, plagued by emotions he should have never felt in the first place.

_Is it wrong to love? Are the Jedi right in banishing emotions?_

Scowling, Anakin crushed the thought. No. They were wrong. Love was pure. Love was Light. Love could not lead into Darkness, could it?

Sighing, the young Knight rose from his chair, his restlessness getting the better of him. As he looked out the large windows at the sunset, he could almost hear Palpatine's slow voice:

_You know, don't you, that if they kill me, all hope of saving Padme will be lost._

And he was right. By the Force, he was right!

Anakin pounded his gloved fist on the transparisteel window, as the anger boiled once more to the surface. But the memory of the vase in the hall quickly subdued him, as he let his hand hang limply by his side.

_I will lose that which is my very life. And I cannot do anything to stop it!_

Falling back into the chair, he fought the bitter tears that were threatening to break the dam and burst out. He was given a choice. Between loyalty and love. A choice no man walking among the Living should have to make.

_I will wait, for now, _he thought, the two warring sides having reached a stalemate. _But I will not let Destiny happen! Even if I must sell my own Soul in the process!_

He stood motionless, as the Sun disappeared at the Western border of the sky, taking away its light and warmth. These would be the last rays of light for the Republic, in an ever darkening world.

**x x x**

Obi-Wan threw himself in the air, to evade Grievous' onslaught. With a triple flip, he landed behind the droid General and pushed his blade forward, only to be intercepted by one of Grievous' sabers, in a quick rear parry. Turning around, Grievous nearly knocked Obi-Wan's weapon out of his hand with a powerful attack.

Obi-Wan dropped low, dodging another attack which flew over the top of his head. With a roundhouse kick, he nailed Grievous in the chest, making him retreat several steps. Pressing his advantage, Obi-Wan lashed forward, severing one of his opponent's arms, saber and all.

Grievous snarled. Crossing his three sabers, he launched a lightning flurry of strikes, steadily pressing Obi-Wan backwards.

"You are an even bigger fool than I imagined, Kenobi!" laughed Grievous, when he saw Obi-Wan's back hit the wall. Now he had him cornered.

"I don't think so" answered Obi-Wan, smiling slightly.

This only enraged Grievous, who speared forwards with his sabers. Obi-Wan, however, was ready. Opening his senses to the Force, he felt the attack a split second before it came and turned sharply to the right. Grievous' three sabers sliced into the steel bulkhead with a sizzling sound, the General being stunned by Kenobi's speed.

Obi-Wan twirled his blade, severing another arm, before Grievous could pull it out of the hole.

Howling, the droid slashed down, hoping to part his foe's head from his shoulders, but Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber, deflecting the killing blow. Twisting his wrist, he caused Grievous to lose his balance slightly and swiftly severed his third limb.

The droid backed away. Although he didn't show it, he was terrified. He had only one more arm left and if he didn't figure something out quickly, Kenobi was going to dispose of him permanently!

Eying the hole which he had made in the hangar's wall, he figured out an escape route.

"I would love to stay and chat some more, but I must really take my leave!"

Cutting the hole much wider with his remaining saber, he threw himself into the dark bowels of the ship.

"You're not getting away that easily!" said Obi-Wan, entering after him. The hole led into a long and empty pipeline. Crawling on his hands and kness, Obi-Wan squinted to see in the nearly total darkness. He could hear shuffling sounds, which meant that Grievous wasn't too far ahead.

Judging by his intention to escape, the droid was probably searching for a way to the escape pods. Flicking his wrist comm. open, Obi-Wan called:

"Lieutenant Delos? I'm currently in pursuit of General Grievous through the ships' pipelines."

"We have you on our screens, sir. Grievous is just a few dozen meters ahead."

"Where does this shaft lead, Lieutenant?"

"It ends at the main energy generator, at the far end of the ship."

"Good. Keep monitoring our positions and inform me if anything unusual occurs."

"Yes, General!"

Closing the link, Obi-Wan continued to crawl ahead. Soon, the pipeline ended, in a large room, full of cables and electrical equipment. Exiting the confined space, the Jedi Master gazed around the room, trying to locate Grievous, who was nowhere in sight.

His senses flashed a warning and Obi-Wan deftly raised his saber, parrying Grievous' attack.

"You are a worthy adversary Kenobi!" the droid General panted, keeping his blade in lock with Obi-Wan's. "But even you cannot stop that which you cannot see!"

Kicking Obi-Wan hard in the chest, Grievous ended the lock. With three wide steps, he reached the main power generator and before the Jedi could do anything to stop him, he plunged his weapon in the machine. A massive short-circuit ensued, sparkling bolts of electricity zipping through the wires around the room. The lights blinked twice then went out completely, as the power ended. The cruiser _Invictus_ floated dead in space.

Obi-Wan picked himself from the floor and struggled to pinpoint his crafty enemy's presence through the dark. Grievous, however, had vanished.

"Blast!" grumbled the General. Delving in the Force's soothing current, he extended his senses in the room, searching for Grievous' tell-tale signature. But he could not find it.

Detaching himself from his basic senses, Obi-Wan allowed the current of life energy to permeate his body completely. Ignoring the physical limitations of his mortal body, he allowed his mind to travel across distance. He could feel the entire cruiser around him, with thousands of panicked people running around, searching for a way to restore power to the ship. He traveled even farther, towards the surface of Utapau. There, the sun had set and the battle between the two sides had ended. Casualties on both sides had been very high, as he could feel the pain of the wounded and the brief but immense relief of those who became one with the Force.

And then something happened. Somewhere in the Galaxy, a terrible twist of Fate occurred. For just a few seconds, Obi-Wan could feel the brief glimmer of Darkness. Pure, Darkness, unlike anything that he had ever known before. It ended as quickly as it had begun, but he knew it had been there, for it had left a mark in the fabric of the Force, like a blotch of ink on a previously immaculate canvas. It had been strong. And deep.

_Anakin!_

Somehow, from the depths of his being, he knew that it had been his young friend that he had sensed. Their old training bond was still in place, albeit weakened by the conflicts that had torn them so much apart.

It had been him! It was all the more urgent now that he return to Coruscant as fast as possible!

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan controlled his stampeding heart as much as he possibly could. Fear was not an emotion which he could afford to feel now! It would not help anything if he abandoned his duties on a hunch!

But it was more than just a hunch. All of his instincts were screaming at him full-force to get this over it and return to his former pupil's side, who needed him now more than ever!

Still, there was the matter of finding Grievous, which was no easy feat. Somehow, the droid General had managed to conceal himself so well, that not even Obi-Wan's highly trained senses could pinpoint his location.

_Focus on the here and now! Everything else is irrelevant!_

Qui-Gon's wise words came to him, but they were of little help. In moments like these, he ferverently wished that his Master had not died that fateful day all those years ago. How he needed his guidance now!

_Feel, don't think! The Living Force shall guide you!_

And then, the answer came to him. He had gone the wrong way about this! He had searched for a ripple, a mark in the Force, any small sign of life. But if one was completely cloaked from the Force itself, one would not let even the smallest sign of existence show. He had searched for a presence, when he should have been searching for a _non-presence_!

Listening intently to the flow of the Living Force, Obi-Wan allowed it to bathe him in a warm, shimmering sea of azure. Reaching outwards once more, he sought out something very specific. And he found it! It was a rupture, a dead spot in the Force, not unlike a black hole, standing sharply in contrast with everything around it.

Smiling, Obi-Wan ignited his cerulean blade. With the Living Force as his ally, the Jedi Master lunged forward, bringing his lightsaber down in a wide arc.

From his hiding place, Grievous was grinning smugly. The foolish Jedi! He had been taught by none other than Darth Sidious how to completely shield himself from the Force. No ne could find him now! All he had to do was stand and wait for Kenobi to lower his guard and then it would all be over with one quick strike!

But something happened. Kenobi's serious face was lit by a smile. The he proceeded to activate his weapon and jump straight for the droid's location!

Grievous' eyes bulged in terror. He didn't even have the time to wrap his metal fingers on the hilt of his weapon, as Obi-Wan's blade pierced his plated ribcage, going straight for the heart.

Opening his mouth, Grievous could only utter several intelligible sounds. "How?" he managed to finally choke out, with his dying strength.

"I had a good mentor" Obi-Wan answered, pulling his lightsaber out. With a harrowing last cough, Grievous collapsed on his back, his eyes closing as his soul left his battered body.

"Rest, warrior" Obi-Wan whispered, placing his fingertips on his dead enemy's forehead, both acknowledging him as a worthy adversary and respecting his passing. Obi-Wan pitied him He had once been a proud and noble being, of that he was certain. Only cruel Fortuna knew what had led him down this dark path and mangled his body to such an extent, that he was more machine than living creature.

Sighing, Obi-Wan raised himself. He had more urgent matters to attend to than to weep for another's mistakes. Just then, the lights went back on, as the auxiliary power generator was started.

"Lieutenant Delos, how is everyone on the bridge?"

"A little bit shaken, sir, but the situation is under control. You gave us quite the scare. What happened to Grievous?"

"He is dead, Lieutenant. Send a patrol down here to pick up his body. We will be transporting him to Coruscant, were he can be given a decent burial."

"Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"What are the reports of the ground assault?"

"Ground assault has been a success, General. Commander Cody and his remaining troops are returning to the Fleet as we speak."

"Good. Prepare the med centers to receive the wounded and tell Commander Cody to meet me in the main hangar bay."

"Aye, General!"

**x x x**

Cody climbed out of the overcrowded shuttle, surveying as the medical teams carried the wounded on hoverstretchers to the med center. There had been many casualties in this battle, but Cody was proud to have lead his men once more. For if the rumor that General Grievous was dead turned up to be true, it meant that the Cone Wars were finally over, after three grueling years!

The Commander's trained eyes were the first to pick up the disheveled, tired Jedi crossing the hangar in long strides. Without saying a word, the two men embraced each other, rejoicing that they had both survived the ordeal.

"So is it true, Boss? Have you really finished Grievous once and for all?"

"I have" Obi-Wan answered, a bitter note slipping in his voice.

"What's the matter?" Cody asked, pulling off his blood-stained helmet. He knew his friend well enough to realize that something serious was bothering him. "The war is finally over and you look as if your Grandmother had just died!"

"Something urgent has come up" Obi-Wan said, ignoring Cody's attempt to make him laugh. "We need to return to Coruscant as fast as possible."

"I'm afraid that will not be possible, General" interfered Lieutenant Delos, a tall, gangly man. "We have too many troops still on the surface. It will take another six hours before the whole task force will be accounted for."

"All in all, what is our ETA?"

"Thirty hours at the most, twenty at the least, General."

"That is too long." Obi-Wan shook his head, frustrated. "I will have to leave ahead, then. Lieutenant, I am appointing you Supreme Commander of the Sixth Army of the Republic as of now. Commander Cody will be your right hand. The welfare of this Fleet and its safe return to Coruscant now depend on you!"

The two men looked at each other for a second. They were intrigued by Obi-Wan's sudden rush. Seeing the glint in the man's sea blue eyes, however, made them realize that the subject was not open for discussion.

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"

Smiling slightly, Obi-Wan patted Cody's shoulder.

"I have complete faith in you, my friend" he said, on a much warmer tone. "I couldn't have left the Sixth in more capable hands!"

Grinning as well, Cody pulled Obi-Wan in a bear hug, tossing away all formality and rank difference.

"I trust you as well, Obi-Wan. May you succeed in all that you have set out to accomplish!"

Sharing one last small smile, the two men parted ways. Obi-Wan climbed in his starfighter. Starting the engines, the gently guided the craft out of the hangar. Looking back, he saw Cody wave. He returned the gesture.

"Well, Arfour" he sighed, focusing on the controls once again "the battle with Destiny begins."

The astromech bleeped, saying that it had no idea what its pilot had in mind. Obi-Wan chuckled lightly, as he flipped a few switches in quick sequence. The stars started to blur and streak into lines, as Obi-Wan's fighter plunged in hyperspace, beginning its fateful race toward Coruscant.

In _The Invictus'_ hangar bay, Cody watched the red and silver craft disappear in a flash of light.

"Good luck, Obi-Wan. And may the Force be with you!"


	10. To Feel Another's Agony

Hello everyone! I'm so sorry for being this late with an update! The past week has been harrowing, with the end of term examinations, tests and all that jazz. Not to mention very tense moments (almost flunked math class!) But, thank God, it's finally over! The summer vacation is here and I'll be able to forget every trigonometric formula that I have learned! Hallelujah! They were taking up too much essential gray matter, anyway:)

As for the story, now that the summer vacation has officially started, I can make it up to everyone by posting to my heart's content (which means very, very often!)

Obi-Wan and Anakin's paths cross once more. But is their link as strong as it was before, or has it been irreparably damaged by Palpatine's lies and manipulations?

**Chapter X – To Feel Another's Agony**

Hekarya was a small planet in the Outer Rim. Considered insignificant by just about everyone who knew of it, it didn't even figure in most astronavigation charts. Far away from every commercial route, it could be considered an oasis of life in a seemingly endless black void. The very few star pilots who dared venture in this cold, empty corner of the Galaxy, came back profoundly changed. From their stories, people deduced that they managed to get themselves lost in the great void, facing the possibility of drifting aimlessly for eons. Most pilots, of course, suffered this gruesome fate. But there were a lucky few who somehow succeeded to stumble across a green and blue sphere. They told precious little about Hekarya: that it was covered in dense, untracked forests and that the inhabitants seemed to be of a humanoid race, very barbaric and primitive in their evolution.

Only one man spoke more freely of what he had seen: an old Corellian, who had spent his whole life in service of the Republic, as a scout, on various starships. No one, however, believed his claims, as he had been diagnosed of suffering from schizophrenia at the age of ten.

He lived in a small village, deep in the highlands of Corellia, where "the old heartbeat of the planet can still be heard" as he used to say. Considered a raving lunatic and mad old hermit, he was shunned and ostracized by his community, but that didn't seem to bother him much. The children were the only ones who, despite their parents' orders, sought out the man and asked him to tell them stories of his travels through the Galaxy. Being a kind and considerate person, he fulfilled the children's wishes, by entertaining them with his experiences. One story, however, always managed to capture the attention of his young audience.

"Thee Hekaryans are a very strange people" he said. "They do not seem to live like the rest of us. Sure, they have to eat and sleep as well, but sometimes, they seem to be dreaming with their eyes open. It's like they are living on a very different level of awareness than the rest of the Galaxy's people. They're also very religious and believe in their Gods with a passion which I have never seen before."

As the children continued to listen to him with rapture, he went on:

"There is also this shaman, their spiritual leader. Very unusual fellow. The rest of the Hekaryans consider him to be immortal, a descendent of their God. I've talked to him and I can say that he seemed very wise."

"What did he say?" asked a dark haired girl.

"He said that the world is a much more complex thing than I was lead to believe and that my views of it are quite limited. He showed me a pitcher, full of swirling mists, which, in fact, was water. He told me that I was looking at the Galaxy as it was in reality: a living, breathing entity, made up of an infinite spectrum of grays. No perfect black or white. No such extremes."

"And?" piped in an enthusiastic boy.

"He proceeded to take a vial, containing a brilliantly white liquid and spilled a small drop inside the pitcher. He told me that an act of goodness had been done in the world: a sentient had willingly given up his own life to save another. Then he took out another vial, this one containing impenetrable darkness. He poured another drop inside, saying that a sentient had taken another's life, out of greed and lust for revenge."

"And the shaman didn't do anything to stop it?" asked an outraged girl.

"There was nothing that he could do. His role was that of a supervisor and he couldn't intervene in Fate's ways. He told me that this was the way it was supposed to be: for every act of kindness, there always had to be an act of cruelty. Good against evil, light against dark, day against night, warmth against coldness, life against death. A perfect symmetry of the Universe, keeping All in Balance."

"He also told me that this fragile Balance is failing, that for every white drop he has to put in three black drops. The water in the pitcher keeps getting darker and darker, signaling the Galaxy's corruption."

"Did he say anything more?"

"Yes, but here I couldn't understand him anymore. He spoke of things that were too deep and mysterious for this old scout to understand. He kept rambling on about the world's darkest hour and the tragic life of a man he kept calling the _Son of the Suns._ I asked him to explain who this man was exactly, but he told me that all would be revealed, in due time."

The children thanked the old man and set out for their own homes, dreaming of a green, lush world, where the mundane and the fantastic merged together, to give birth to another reality. The old man watched them, smiling at their exuberance. They would grow to know just how harsh the world really was, but for now they were just younglings, who deserved to live in their perfect dreams.

He, however, could no longer dream, for the shaman's words had opened his eyes to the larger world around him. He could now see very clearly all of the subtle signs that showed the approaching age of darkness. Very little things, which he could have overlooked before, now stuck out, like black pulsars on a white sky.

And there was nothing that he could do about it.

Although he had tried to warn the people around him, no one believed him, because of his mental illness. They all thought of him as an old lunatic.

There was nothing he could do about it.

_Do not try to weave the Web of Destiny. You will be too entangled to ever come out again._

The shaman's words still rang true in his ears, calming his frustration. It was not his Fate to lead the Galaxy through the rising tempest. Another held that honor.

_The Sun of the Suns. His life will be an endless struggle between the two extremes, Light and Darkness. They will both do battle for dominion over his soul._

As the old man lay in his bed, he felt pain coursing through his frail body. His end was drawing near and he wished to die with some measure of dignity. But why were the shaman's prophecies ringing in his ears?

_A spirit of Flame, he will be, restless and forever on the move. He will find peace in very few places in this world._

Struggling with his unresponsive muscles, he managed to raise his palm to his sweat-covered forehead.

_To Morning, he will give birth, but Twilight will be his halo._

The old man felt his skin burn with a rising fever. He reached out with his other hand, to grab a cup of water from the table.

_For those he loves, he will fight. But, in the end, his uncontrolled emotions will prove to be their doom._

Grasping the glass handle with trembling fingers, he slowly pulled the cup toward his dry lips.

_Some will call him a Monster, while others will see him as a God. And he will never care about other people's opinions of him._

Gripping the cup with both hands, the man drank thirstily from the ice cold liquid. He choked and was swiftly rattled by powerful coughing.

_But he will be a Mortal Man, nothing more, nothing less._

The old man breathed in deep gulps of air, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

_A Mortal Man with the Prophecy of Balance hanging over his head, for his entire life._

The man dropped the cup and plopped down on the soft pillows once more.

_He will have to make a choice, to choose a path for his unusual Destiny._

The cup hit the ground, shattering in hundreds of little blue shards, spilling water all over the floor.

_And regardless of what choice he will make, his soul will weep a thousand tears._

The old man placed his hands over his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat, the room slowly fading around him.

_No matter what choice he will make, his Soul will weep a thousand tears of blood._

**x x x**

Twilight was setting on Coruscant, enveloping the metropolis in its dark wings. A stunning spectacle took place as the light slowly faded. The lights of the tall skyscrapers flashed on, illuminating the veil of shadow. Night never truly reigned over the planet, as it was permanently covered in artificial lights.

A small, armored gunship was weaving through the traffic, its destination firmly set. The four sentients nestled inside could see the undying lights pass them, but they did not feel comforted by them in any way. The lights could not dispel the feeling of impending doom or the cold Darkness each of them felt, just at the edge of their senses.

"Are you sure this is the wisest course of action, Master Windu?" asked Jedi Master Eeth Koth, from his seat.

Leaning slightly against the bulkhead, Mace Windu's eyes tracked the swirling lights of the city.

"It is our _only _course of action" he answered, tightly. "With his lies, Palpatine has managed to bind our hands. We are very vulnerable right now and I fear for the survival of the order if we do not act swiftly!"

"But what about Anakin's warning, in the hangar?" asked Kit Fisto, brushing his dangling tentacles aside. "He seemed quite troubled and the Force swirled around him with the strength of a hurricane. Perhaps we should have heeded his words and allowed him to join us!"

"He is a very skilled warrior, there is no doubt about that" agreed Saesse Tiin. "He would have proved an asset against the Chancellor."

"No." Mace said, vehemently.

The other three Masters looked at him with puzzlement, prompting his explanation:

"Young Skywalker has been very confused as of late. I can feel a deep turmoil taking place in his soul. Whatever the cause for this disturbance is, Anakin is much too unbalanced to last against a Sith Lord."

"You fear for his life?" Koth asked.

"Not for his life, but for his Soul. I believe that Palpatine has no intention whatsoever to kill the boy. No, he wishes to make him fall to the Darkside. To turn him against us!"

"Foolishness!" Saesse Tiin denied. "I have served with the boy in many battles during the war and I can freely say that he is extremely loyal to the Republic. He is willing to die in order to defend it!"

"And that is just what I'm afraid of" sighed the Jedi Master. "He feels too _much_!He puts too much passion in everything that he does!"

"Who is to say that it is a fault?" asked Tiin, grimly.

Plopping down, in a cross-legged position, Saesse beckoned Mace closer.

"Let me tell you a story, Master Windu" he said, on a low tone. "It happened almost a year ago, during the siege of the Seterr star system. General Obi-Wan Kenobi led the assault troops on Seterria, where the Separatists had erected several droid factories and other such facilities. Anakin Skywalker had to stay behind, in _The Praetor_'s medical bay, as he had been severely wounded in a previous battle. The ground attack went smoothly, according to plan. But what General Kenobi didn't know was the fact that an entire Separatist Fleet had been hiding, using the powerful glare of Seterria's star as cover. When they aligned themselves in formation and advanced, the Republic task force was overwhelmed. The flagship, _Praetor, _suffered the brunt of the attack, as it had been the Separatist's main target."

"Master Tiin" Mace scowled, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "I already know about the defeat at Seterr. I make it a personal habit of mine to read the reports coming in from the front lines. Are you going somewhere with this?"

"Yes, I am, Master Windu" Saesse answered, between gritted teeth. "True, you have read the reports, but there is one thing that was not mentioned at the debriefing. As the enemy fire centered on _The Praetor_, many of its systems began to go critical. The crew members realized that they had to abandon ship, in order to survive. A few frigates docked with the cruiser, loading the personnel and transporting them to safety. Of course, several soldiers returned to help Anakin Skywalker. He, however, refused to leave the ship. And do you know what he said, Master Windu? _I will not abandon my men! As long as there still is another living sentient on this ship, I will not leave! _And he did just that! When everyone was scrambling madly for the hangar bay, he was in the med center, carrying the other wounded men out. I had been stationed on _The Praetor _as well. As I was coordinating the escape, I ran into Skywalker, on a corridor. He was bleeding, for his wounds had re-opened, due to the effort and he was carrying two unconscious men on his shoulders. I told him to leave them behind, that he was much too important to die.

"And what did he say?"

"He looked at me with a bone-chilling stare that I will never forget as long as I live! And he said: _Master Tiin, have you ever felt another's agony? I feel the pain of these men and I will not leave them behind! Not as long as I live and breathe! _That was his answer! And he proceeded to make the trip between the med center and the shuttle nine times, to get everyone out. He was the last to leave the vessel, just before it exploded under the Separatists' bombardment!"

"Why hasn't the Council been informed about this?" Mace asked, frowning.

"Anakin asked me and Master Kenobi to not say a word about what had happened aboard _The Praetor, _I do not know why he did so, but we chose to honor his request. His reasons are his alone."

Mace turned from Saesse, to look at the spectacular scenery outside, without saying one word.

"Indeed, he truly has an iron will" said Fisto. "He deserved to come with us."

"I do not doubt the kindness or compassion of his heart" answered Mace, softly, sorrow lining his voice. "The Force knows that he is the last of the True Knights."

"The true Knights?" Eeth Koth inquired. "I do not understand, Master Windu."

"What are we fighting for?" asked Mace, turning towards them.

The three Masters exchanged questioning glances.

"The Republic, of course" answered Saesse.

"Why?"

This time, the Masters truly seemed befuddled.

"Because it is our sworn duty" Kit said. "Because we swore an oath to the Republic and its citizens."

"Exactly. We fight because it is our duty, because it is _expected _of us. But have you ever posed yourselves this question: does any Jedi fight for love?"

"For love? What do you mean, Master Windu?"

"I mean that a Jedi can also do battle to defend that which he loves, that which he believes in! There was a time, long ago, during the Sith Wars, when the Jedi protected the Republic because they loved it and believed in the values that it stood for! Those were the Jedi in their truest form!"

The other three watched Mace, astounded. Never had they seen the stoic, reserved Councilor talk with such passion before!

"And now, in this dark age, very few of us remember those times! We have ceased to believe and entrenched ourselves into following nothing but a symbolic oath."

"We call ourselves the Guardians of the Galaxy, but we do not deserve to wear this title" agreed Fisto, understanding.

"Indeed" nodded Mace, sadly. "Anakin has done that which even us, the most powerful Masters find it impossible to do: he hasn't stopped believing in the Republic."

"Then why do you still doubt him, Master?"

"I do not doubt him at all. I am worried that Palpatine might use his powerful feelings against him. After all, he has proved to be a master manipulator in the past thirteen years."

The other men nodded in agreement, as the gunship slowly settled down, in front of the Senate Dome.

"Wait until be return" Mace told the clone pilot.

"Yes, sir!"

The four Jedi exited the craft and headed down the dark and quiet corridors, toward the Chancellor's office.

"If we succeed today" Tiin said, with a rakish grin "this whole mess will be over!"

"Not quite" disagreed Eeth Koth. "There will be a huge power vacuum after the Chancellor's arrest. The Council will have to take control of the Senate, in order to ensure a peaceful transition."

"Master Yoda does not agree with this" added Fisto.

"That is because the Jedi were not meant to lead the Galaxy" said Mace. "We would be straying very far from our original prerogatives."

"But we don't have a choice, do we?" Saesse asked, grimly.

"No, we do not" Mace answered, shaking his head.

The rest of the journey was spent in silence, as each of the Masters listened carefully to the flow of the Force and tried to commune with the mystical energy.

Finally, they reached the ornate wooden doors that lead into Palpatine's offices.

"This is it" Koth remarked. "Any suggestions?"

"We will be cautious" Mace advised. "There is no yelling what he will try to do."

"A hunter shows his true wisdom when he has to decide how far inside the rancor's mouth he can stick his hand, without loosing it!" said Tiin, smirking.

"Then we shall face the beast" agreed Koth and Fisto, nodding.

The four men looked at each other once more, before Mace opened the doors and they stepped in the rancor's lair.

**x x x**

In the high orbit of Coruscant, a small red and white Delta starfighter dropped out of hyperspace, surrounded by a flash of bluish light.

The ship's astromech started chirping loudly, in order to wake up the ship's pilot, who had fallen asleep during the journey. But his calls were unheard by Obi-Wan Kenobi, who drifted deep in the land of dreams . . . .

_He found himself atop a hill, surveying his surroundings. All around him, he could see lush forests stretching out toward the horizons. He has in a ruined temple, nestled atop the hill, in the highest vantage point. He could see shattered stones and toppled marble pillars and the once white walls were covered in green moss._

"_What are you doing here?" came a soft voice behind him._

_Turning around, he saw a tall, dark-skinned man, dresses in red and blue robes. His attention was immediately drawn to the man's eyes: they were a deep shade of blue, like the midnight sky, on a clear summer's night. The resemblance with Anakin's eyes was almost shocking._

"_I . . . don't know" Obi-Wan answered, fumbling for words._

"_The Force brought you here" the strange man answered, inspecting Obi-Wan from head to toe._

"_The Force? How is it possible?"_

"_The Galaxy's life energy works in mysterious ways" the man said cryptically. "It has brought you here for advice."_

"_Advice?" Obi-Wan frowned. "From you?"_

_The man smiled, his eyes taking on a warm glow._

"_I am much older than I seem, General Kenobi. I know many things which are hidden from Mortal eyes."_

"_Such as?"_

"_Such as the fact that you will have to give your own Soul, in order to save your learner's."_

_Obi-Wan looked at the man, in shock, feeling like he had been kicked in the stomach._

"_Give my Soul? When?"_

"_It is not a predetermined fact. It may occur now, or it may occur fifty years from now. The future is always in motion."_

_Recognizing one of Yoda's famous quotes, Obi-Wan asked:_

"_Just who are you?"_

"_A man who has been chosen by the Force, the same as your former learner, albeit for a much different purpose."_

_Suddenly, the broken pillars of the temple started to spin and fade in front of Obi-Wan's eyes._

"_Wait!" he called out to the man's disappearing silhouette. "I still have questions that need answers!"_

"_Remember, Obi-Wan Kenobi" the man said, calmly. "In order to save Anakin Skywalker, you will have to Fall!"_

Obi-Wan woke up with a start, R4's beeps ringing in his ears.

"Stop it, Arfour!" he shouted toward the astromech, which promptly obeyed his command.

Settling more comfortably in the pilot's chair, he sighed as he readied the craft for entry in Coruscant's atmosphere.

"If I didn't know better" he mumbled, "I would swear that the Force is trying to send me to the loony bin with all of these visions.

Arfour emitted a high-pitched squeak, which was a droid version of laughter.

"Shut up!" he snapped, guiding the ship into the entry trajectory.

Arfour beeped and instantly fell silent.

Satisfied with the lack of noise, Obi-Wan began to swiftly descent through the layers of the stratosphere, swerving wildly to avoid collisions with other ships.

_I must get to the Temple as fast as I can!_

The sense of urgency burning in his chest seemed to escalate with every passing second, until he felt near to panic when he finally broke through the clouds and saw the Temple, its spires alit by the hundreds of lights, shining in the night.

Gripping the control stick firmly, he entered the hangar, touching down on the steel floor.

Opening the glass canopy, he turned toward the small astromech, who hadn't uttered a single sound throughout the entire descent.

"I'm sorry, Arfour" Obi-Wan said softly, tapping the droid's dome with his fingers. "I shouldn't have yelled at you, but I'm under a lot of pressure."

The astromech chirped happily, making Obi-Wan understand that he had accepted his apology.

"I'm sure glad that droids don't hold a grudge!" he said, smiling wryly. However, when he cast his eyes to the other side of the hangar, the smile instantly died on his lips.

"Anakin!" he yelled, breaking into a frantic sprint.

**x x x**

Anakin contemplated the darkness that seemed to engulf the entire metropolis, slowly. Its reign didn't last long, as thousands of colorful lights were lit across the planet. In any other day, he would have been fascinated with the beauty laid out before him. Today, however, his mind was troubled by much darker thoughts, which overshadowed the light around him.

_Learn to let go! Detach yourself from that which you fear to lose!_

He snorted, remembering Yoda's advice, when he had told the diminutive Master of his dreams.

_As if I would ever do that!_

In a sense, he had felt liberated, in the past. Liberated of the constraint of the Code, that seemed to choke the entire Order to death. Unlike his peers, who listened blindly to their instructors, he had broken almost all of the ancient tenants.

And he had done so willingly.

_Why must love be forbidden?_

He had asked himself that question a million times in the past, but never received an answer.

_There is no Emotion, there is peace._

And yet his soul was plagued by intense emotions. He never truly felt at peace.

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

And yet he did not possess the proper knowledge, in order to save his beloved's life.

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

And yet the love and passion that he felt for Padme were the only things that made his life matter.

_There is no death, there is the Force._

And yet he could not accept his wife's death. He could not let her join the Force, no matter how hard he tried.

_I am, by far, _he thought gloomily, _the worst Jedi that this Order has ever seen!_

His gloved wrist hit the chair's arm with a loud crack that resonated across the empty room.

_I just can't sit around and wait! Regardless of Master Windu's orders!_

At that moment, a piercing cry resonated in his head. Anakin jumped up from the chair, his fingers curled around the hilt of his lightsaber.

Casting out his senses, he tried to perceive the source of the scream. He didn't feel anything unusual and yet there was a nagging thought, just at the edge of his consciousness, which told him that something was gravely wrong.

_Anakin! Help me!_

And then he saw it! It flashed in front of his eyes for only a brief second, but that had been enough. Palpatine, wounded and defenseless, lay fallen on the floor of his devastated office. Above him towered the dark-skinned Mace Windu, his purple blade poised to deliver the final strike.

Anakin's heart seemed to stop beating, for the duration of a few seconds. This couldn't be happening! Master Windu had promised to bring Palpatine in alive! He had promised!

_This is the last chance to save your angel from death's clutches, _a dark voice rose from the depths of his soul, mocking and taunting. _Will you waste it?_

_Of course not!_

For another fleeting moment, he could see Palpatine's blood-covered face turn his way. The Chancellor's pale blue eyes were wide open in horror and his lips were murmuring a silent and desperate plea.

_Please, my son! Help me!_

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back! The act that set in motion a course of events which would change the face of the Galaxy forever.

Tightening his grip on the hilt of the lightsaber until his fingers hurt, Anakin swiftly turned around and ran out of the Council chamber. He raced through the corridors, bounded down the stairs, jumping almost five steps at a time. He reached the place where the remnants of the shattered vase lay, but the paid them no heel, crushing delicate crystal shards beneath his heavy boots. All that he saw and heard was Palpatine's tortured plea for help.

_Force, let him live! _Anakin silently prayed in his mind. _I need him now more than ever!_

Finally, his race through the Temple brought him to his intended destination: the hangar bay. Throwing himself into a chair, in front of a control console, he began to frantically key in commands. Bypassing the temple lockdown was a very easy task for one who fiddled with computers and machines since the age of five.

Anakin waited impatiently as the system processed his commands. Finally, a list of all available ships appeared on the screen. Anakin surveyed each of them briefly, searching for the fastest one. His eyes stopped on a light skiff. It possessed no weaponry or shields and its hull was crafted out of a lightweight metal alloy. However, with a total of three booster engines and an aerodynamic shape, it was definitely built for speed.

The young Jedi quickly tapped a sequence of keys, ordering the system to ready the craft for fight. Raising himself from the console, he ran across the empty hangar, towards a lowering ramp, with the skiff atop it. But, just as he was waiting for the ramp to lower itself completely, a painfully familiar voice rang through the large room:

"Anakin!"

The Knight turned, only to see his former Master, Obi-Wan jump out of his starfighter and sprint toward him across the bay.

"Thank the Force . . . that you're all right!" Obi-Wan panted, skidding to a halt in front of Anakin and struggling to control his ragged breathing.

"What are you doing here?" asked Anakin, frowning. "Weren't you supposed to be on Utapau, with the Sixth Army?"

"I left the Sixth under the command of Lieutenant Delos and Commander Cody" Obi-Wan explained "and I returned here as fast as possible!"

"What's with the rush?" inquired Anakin, keeping his tone casual.

"I had a . . . very disturbing Force vision" Obi-Wan answered, gulping down the knot which had formed in his throat. "It was about you, Anakin. You fell to the Darkside!"

"Really?" Anakin said, raising one eyebrow. "Well, I am truly grateful for your concern, Master!"

Obi-Wan looked with surprise at this friend, when he heard the snide tone with witch he had spoken.

"Anakin, I was very worried about you!"

"You were, weren't you? I thank you, Master! When the whole world sees fit to come crashing down around me, you start worrying about petty nightmares!"

Anakin whirled around, turning his back toward his distraught teacher.

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin apprehensively, noting the tense shoulders and clenched fists. No doubt about it, the younger man was angry. And in pain.

"Anakin" the Jedi Master pleaded gently, placing a hand on the Knight's shoulder. "Tell me, what is the matter? Let me help you!"

But Anakin brushed Obi-Wan's hand away, snarling:

"I don't need help! And certainly not from you!"

"Padawan" Obi-Wan spoke more firmly this time, using the young man's title as a learner. "Don't shut me put. Let me help you!"

Anakin's back went saber straight, as his breath caught in his throat. Unknowingly, Obi-Wan had just echoed his wife's words! How well he remembered her pained, dark eyes and the horror he had felt inside of himself when he had discovered that he was making her suffer. Just as he was making his Master suffer. He felt hot tears threatening to spill on his cheeks and he fought to restrain them.

"Do you honestly know how it fells like?" he asked, in a strangled whisper. "To feel another's agony? Another's pain?"

"Yes" came the quiet reply.

Anakin turned around, seeing his Master's soft misty-blue eyes liking at him with kindness and support.

"I am here for you, Anakin. And always will be."

Anakin could only nod, as he steadied himself on one of the skiff's wings, his legs shaking under him.

"Now, tell me what has been going on since I was left."

"The Council decided to relieve Chancellor Palpatine of his emergency powers, since the war had ended." Anakin explained, softly. "I was sent to deliver him the news of General Grievous' demise, but he wouldn't relinquish all that he has gained."

"He actually had the courage to face the Jedi Council?" Obi-Wan frowned. "Something doesn't feel right."

"That's because he isn't a normal politician. He is a Dark Lord of the Sith."

Obi-Wan's expression registered shock, but only for a moment, before he composed himself again.

"I see."

"I transmitted this information to Master Windu and the Jedi Council. Four Masters went off a few hours ago, to arrest him."

"And I do not see what the problem is" Obi-Wan said.

"I need him alive, not dead, Anakin whispered, fiercely, the flame in his dark- blue eyes seeming to ignite once again, as he rose from the sitting position.

"Alive? Why?"

"I will tell you when I'll return" Anakin answered, climbing into the skiff. Obi-Wan, however, gripped his wrist, stopping him.

"I'm coming with you."

Anakin turned toward his Master, his eyes darkening even more.

"No" he growled. "I must do this alone!"

"Padawan, regardless of what you will say and do, I am still coming with you! Face the facts, Anakin. I can be as stubborn as you when I want to!"

Cursing under his breath, Anakin relented.

"Fine! But stay out of my way!"

"You won't even know I'm there!" Obi-Wan joked. "And I need to know why you need Palpatine alive so much."

"Get in!" ordered Anakin. "I'll explain everything on the way!"

Obeying his younger friend, Obi-Wan jumped into the ship's cockpit, next to Anakin and strapped himself in the chair.

"Prepare for takeoff" Anakin said, flipping a few switches in sequence. The three booster engines roared to life and the skiff began to move on the ferrocrete strip.

"Anakin, just how fast does this thing go?" Obi-Wan asked, eyeing the controls warily.

"Ten klicks per second" Anakin answered casually, ignoring his Master's horrified expression. "I needed the fastest bird the Temple had."

Pushing the throttle, Anakin accelerated, taking off from the strip and blasting out through the hangar bay doors and into the chilly Coruscant night, racing towards his Destiny . . .


	11. Looking into the Eyes of Destruction

Thank you so much for the reviews! I woke up, only to discover a full inbox! Definitely made my day! I'll keep up the posting as quick as possible!

**BGTom: **What Anakin saw was only an illusion sent by Palpatine to sway him on his side. As for the scars, he won't be getting them from Mace in this story, but from another character.

I just finished _Shatterpoint _by Matthew Stover a few hours ago. Brilliant book! I practically fell in love with it! Stover has an amazing writing style. I personally recommend it to everyone around here!

Okay, enough of my babbling! On with the story!

**Chapter XI – Looking into the Eyes of Destruction**

_In what distant deeps or skies  
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?  
On what wings dare he aspire,  
What the hand dare seize the fire?_

**William Blake – The Tiger**

The doors of Palpatine's office slid open, admitting four Jedi Masters, who marched shoulder to shoulder toward the Chancellor, determination set on their faces.

Palpatine stood in his chair, regal and dignified, as the leader of the Republic should be.

"Master Windu" he acknowledged the Jedi with a curt nod. "I take it that General Grievous has been destroyed?"

The Masters remained silent, watching Palpatine intently.

"I must say that you are here sooner than expected" he continued, with a small smile.

Mace Windu drew in a deep breath, preparing himself. He removed the hilt of his lightsaber from his belt, igniting the purple blade with a fluid motion. The other three followed suit.

"In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic" he said, on a firm tone, "you are under arrest, Chancellor!"

Palpatine tensed slightly in his chair. He leaned forward, locking his eyes with Mace's.

"Are you threatening me, Master Jedi?"

"The Senate will decide your fate" Mace answered, mindful of the edge he sensed behind the Chancellor's words.

"I _am _the Senate!" Palpatine snarled, his voice growing hoarse, as his eyes flashed yellow for a moment.

"Not yet!" countered Mace, steeling his resolve.

Palpatine slowly raised himself from his seat. The four Jedi tightened the grips on their weapons, not taking their eyes off the Sith Lord.

"It's treason, then" he stated on a smooth voice, summoning his lightsaber which immediately appeared in his hand.

For a few seconds, the combatants surveyed each other, as the tension in the room escalated. And then the melee began, as Palpatine jumped forward, with a ear-splitting scream, twisting in the air like a corkscrew. The Masters immediately raised their sabers to block the attack.

Palpatine's weapon slammed into Fisto and Koth's crossed blades, halting his attack.

With determination, Saesse Tiin charged ahead, bringing his blade down upon his foe. Palpatine raised his saber, blocking the strike. Twisting the Darkside around himself, he sent a powerful wave toward Koth and Fisto, knocking them to the ground.

Seeing as the Chancellor was not paying attention, Mace attacked with a sideways cut. Sensing the danger, Palpatine jumped out of the way and Mace's sword sliced through the air.

"How foolish of you to think that you can actually defeat me!" he cackled, sending a desk and two chairs flying toward Mace and Saesse.

Saesse raised his blade, the tip pointing upwards and quickly brought it down in a zig-zag pattern, slicing both chairs in half. Mace outstretched his hand, concentrating on the subtle ebb of the Force. Under his command, the huge mahogany desk was thrown backwards, crashing into the window and shattering it, spreading glass everywhere.

"I believe that is called vandalism, Master Jedi!" smirked Palpatine, as he watched his opponents. Fisto and Koth slowly raised themselves from the floor, a bit dazed from the fall.

"You snake!" roared Saesse, his dark eyes narrowing. "This will be your end!"

"Master Tiin! No!"

But Mace's shout was in vain, as Saesse charged blindly at Palpatine, holding his saber like a spear, hoping to impale the Sith. Palpatine, however, easily dodged the unrefined attack and swiped his blade under Saesse's wrists. The Jedi roared in pain, as both of his hands were severed in an instant, his lightsaber cluttering noisily on the floor.

"I believe you wanted to do this?" Palpatine asked smoothly as he grabbed Saesse by one of his horns with one hand, while he thrust his blade into the Master's chest.

Saesse's eyes opened wide, as his mind registered the white-hot, searing pain of death. He opened his lips and thick blood began to flow down his chin.

Palpatine released his foe and he crumpled to the floor, lifeless, like a rag doll.

Mace pushed back the horror at what he had witnessed. He needed his mind clear if he wished to survive this ordeal.

"We fight together!" he ordered the other Masters. "Do not let him separate us!"

The two nodded and proceeded to flank Mace, blocking the doorway and Palpatine's only exit from the room.

"Do you actually think that your feeble skills are a match for the Darkside?" the Chancellor asked, with a laugh that made chills run up the spines of the three men. "Fools!"

"On the count of three" Mace said, straightening himself and drawing upon the flow of the Force.

"One . . . two . . . three!"

The Masters attacked in unison a perfect harmony linking their every move, but, still, Palpatine was ready. Raising his weapon in a defensive position, he deftly began to parry all of his enemy's blows, not letting a single one slip past his defenses. The four silhouettes danced across the room, lightasabers creating a rainbow of color as they moved with uncanny speed and precision. The Masters steadily advanced forward, as Palpatine retreated slowly. The dark room echoed with the deep humm of the power weapons and the screeches created when two blades collided with one another. To an outsider, it all would have looked like an exquisite ballet, each move refined to near perfection. Only the combatants knew that even the smallest slip meant certain death.

"It's working!" exclaimed Eeth Koth, when Palpatine's back hit the wall. The Chancellor was effectively trapped, with nowhere else to retreat.

"This ends now!" the Jedi Master said, thrusting his lightsaber toward the Sith.

"I think not" Palpatine countered and spun out of the blade's way with blinding speed. Koth didn't even have time to be surprised, as he felt a surge of dark power shove him face-first in the wall.

"Unfortunately, it is your end!" Palpatine smiled, as he pushed his weapon through Koth's shoulder and into the wall. The Jedi gritted his teeth against the agony and tried to move, but the Sith Lord pushed the lightsaber even deeper. And then, he moved it sideways, severing flesh and bone until it emerged out the other shoulder. Koth wailed silently and fell to the floor, a charred gash left in the wall, smeared with blood.

Everything happened so fast, that Mace and Kit Fisto didn't even have time to react. They looked on at the smiling Chancellor, the Force whirling around them like a hurricane.

"Two down, two to go! Gentlemen, I believe that you will make it a lot easier on all of us if you would just lay down your weapons and allow me to send you into the Force without further resistance!"

The Masters looked in Palpatine's pale blue eyes, which held only cold contempt. But behind the layer of ice, they could barely distinguish a black, burning flame. They were looking directly into the eyes of destruction.

"Well, what is your answer!" the Chancellor asked once more, with a smile that made him look like a Firaxan shark who had just spotted its next meal.

"We will never surrender, Palpatine!" Mace spoke with determination, supported by Kit Fisto.

"So be it . . . Jedi!" the Sith Lord snarled, all traces of mirth disappearing from his features. With a swift jump, he was upon the two Jedi, raining a flurry of blows at them. Mace and Kit found themselves quickly moving backwards, retreating from the devastating onslaught. Their blades clashed with Palpatine's red one, showering sparks through the entire room. As they struggled to maintain their defenses against the frenzied attack, none of them saw the fallen chair behind them.

Kit felt his foot collide with something hard and when he moved again, his robe got entangled in the chair's leg, making him lose his balance for a second.

That second, however, was all that Palpatine needed, as he brought his lightsaber around in a wide arc, decapitating Fisto with one fluid motion.

The Master crashed with a dull thud, his head landing a few meters from his body.

Mace watched the entire scene with a sinking heart.

_How can anyone defeat this monster, _he thought, disgruntled, _when he seems to be the very essence of Darkness?_

Palpatine turned his pale eyes toward Mace Windu, with a piercing glare.

"You should have thought about that long ago, Master Windu" he said, on a raspy voice. "Only now, at the end, do you understand!"

"All I understand is that you are the biggest threat to this Galaxy and you must be destroyed!"

Palpatine shook his head, chuckling lightly.

"Such hopeless arrogance" he spoke, disdainfully. "Soon, both you and your precious Order will learn what a Dark Lord of the Sith is truly capable of!"

Palpatine lifted his lightsaber over his head, with both hands and brought it down, in a crushing blow. Mace quickly raised his own saber and met the attack head-on, but the force of the impact nearly broke his wrists. The two combatants resumed their duel, slashing and dodging lightning-fast strikes. They moved around the devastated office, as shards of broken glass crunched under their feet.

Mace closed his eyes, willing the currents of the Force to guide his hands, telling him exactly when and where Palpatine's attacks would occur.

_There is only one way out of this, _he thought, the frenzy of battle boiling in his veins. _Only the Vaapad technique can prove to be a match for him!_

The aforementioned technique was also called the Sixth Jedi fighting style. It was based on very fast moves, flowing in continuous motion, one after the other. It had been named after the vaapad, a ferocious predator, native to the volcanic planet of Sarapin. The vaapads were infamous throughout the Galaxy for their hunting style: they possessed an undetermined number of tentacles, with which they slashed their prey to the death. The only way anyone could tell how many tentacles a vaapad had was by killing it; when it was alive, the creature moved with such speed that it seemed to be only a dark blur.

Mace had imitated the predator's moves, creating a new fighting style, the most dangerous of them all. Very few Padawans trained themselves to use Vaapad, for it required total immersion in the fury of battle. It was a way that trekked extremely close to the Darkside.

But now was not the time for such misgivings, Mace thought, to calm his panicked mind. If passing through the shroud of the Darkside was the only way to destroy the Sith Lord, than so be it!

Mace opened himself to the Force, allowing the ocean of Life to effectively swallow his being. His awareness extended far beyond himself, but he struggled to not be distracted and he focused all of his attention to the present moment. Relaxing and then tensing his entire body, he shifted his stance, placing his lightsaber in an offensive position over his right shoulder. And suddenly, his attack began.

Palpatine had only a moment to ponder exactly what the Jedi's next move would be, when he found himself blocking a torrent of uncontrollable strikes. His lightsaber moved with inhuman precision, seeming to surround him in a halo of fire.

Mace pushed forward, maintaining the ferocity of his attacks, as the blood fever burned inside him. Only a little more and it would be over!

Palpatine continued to give ground in the face of the possessed Master. The Sith Lord was confident in his abilities and the power of the Darkside, but Windu's superiority in sheer physical power was quickly becoming apparent. He needed to find a way to turn the situation to his advantage fast!

Suddenly, Mace's relentless offensive paid of, as Palpatine lost his balance after a particularly vicious strike and fell down on the blood-stained floor. Sensing his enemy's shatter point and the moment of victory drawing near, Mace brought his blade down, for a killing blow. Palpatine's reflexes, however, had been in no way dented by his old age, as he unexpectedly blocked the strike.

The Chancellor smiled wickedly as he saw Mace's straining face over the light of the two crossed weapons and heard his labored breathing over their crackle. Finally, the moment that he had been awaiting! Now was the time to add the final piece on the dejarik board! Stretching out in the Force, he sought a young, bright presence. When he managed to locate it, he projected an image of deep suffering, followed by a hopeless plea for help.

_Anakin! Help me!_

He could almost burst out laughing with joy when he felt the distress emanating in waves from the young man. Still, he needed to be completely sure of the effect.

_Please, my son! Help me!_

And the he closed the mental link. He could almost see Anakin racing out of the Temple and toward the Senate! Soon, everything in his grand design would fall into place and then _no one _will be able to stop him!

Smiling, he looked up at Mace Windu. The man's black eyes were burning with an internal flame and his hands were holding the saber's handle so tight, that his knuckles had turned white.

_Enjoy your moment of supremacy, Master Windu, _he thought, maliciously, _while you still can!_

**x x x**

On the planet of Kashyyyk, long plumes of smoke were rising toward the sky, as entire majestic Wroshyr trees burned. The battle had ended, but its scars were still all too obvious. Groups of frantic Wookies were running everywhere, carrying large pots filled with water on their backs, trying to put out the flames.

Sitting high on a mound, Chewbacca was growling orders in every direction, directing the Wookies were the fire was strongest. Alongside him stood Jedi Master Luminara Unduli, her eyes focused upon the chaos unfurling around them.

"What savagery" she sighed, as another thousand year-old tree collapsed on the ground, leaving nothing but a blackened, charred mass in its way. "At least the war is finally over."

"And none too soon" huffed Chewbacca, as the smell of burnt fur hung heavily in the air. "Those guilty for starting it in the first place deserve to die in the most dishonorable way possible!"

Luminara smiled, slightly.

"I would think the same, if it weren't for my Jedi training. Besides, there is no one left to punish. Commander Cody's report stated that all of the Separatist leaders had been killed during the attack at Utapau."

"They didn't deserve a quick death" growled Chewbacca, the hairs on his neck standing on end.

"Easy, my friend" Luminara spoke, as she placed a hand over his large shoulder. "What's done is done. All that we can do now is help the Republic heal its wounds and rebuild all that has been destroyed."

Chewbacca looked in the wise eyes of the Jedi Master, where he saw the truth of her words shining clear.

"The Wookies are forever indebted to the Republic and the Jedi for your support" he said, on a reverent tone. "Without your help, we would have lost Kashyyyk."

"It was an honor to fight alongside your people, Chewbacca" Luminara answered, with a small bow.

Chewbacca nodded and again started barking orders to the teams of firefighters.

Luminara's gaze turned to the blue sky, as she continued to take note of her surroundings. Some day, other trees would grow, to replace the fallen ones. So was the endless cycle of the Universe: Death makes way for a new Life, like a Phoenix bursting free from its grave of ashes.

And then, everything chanced. The woman felt a horrible pain erupt in her head, as though someone had pierced it with a metal shard. Her knees wobbled under her and it took all of her willpower not to fall.

"Lady Jedi" asked Chewbacca, helping Luminara steady herself with one furry paw, "are you all right?"

Luminara blinked twice, the light entering her eyes seeming very painful all of a sudden.

"Don't worry about me, I'm all right, I think . . . "

Stretching out her perceptions, she tried to detect what had been the cause of the mysterious wave of pain, but nothing seemed out of place. She could feel the deep pain of the still burning vegetation and the determination of the young Wookies to finally put out the blaze. However, none of these factors seemed strong enough to cause her to feel such an abrupt distress.

Unless something had gone horribly wrong in another part of the Galaxy . . .

Master Yoda! He was with her on planet. Maybe he had felt the strange warning as well!

"Madam Luminara" Chewbacca pulled her out of her ruminations, " you are pale. Are you sure you weren't wounded in the battle?"

"Yes" answered Luminara, tightly. "This is a wound of the Force, Chewbacca."

The Wookie watched her, an expression on his features that clearly showed puzzlement.

"I need to talk to Master Yoda" she requested, without preamble. "Do you know where he is?"

Chewbacca nodded his head vigorously. "Last I heard, he was speaking with General Tarfful in the Command Center."

"I need to speak with him right away" Luminara said, the urgency in her tone very clear.

"Allow me" Chewbacca spoke and he suddenly bent down, grabbing Luminara by the waist and hauling her over his massive shoulder.

"Hey! What are you doing?" asked the startled woman. "Put me down!"

"I can clearly see that your business with Master Yoda is an urgent one" Chewbacca grunted, on a placating tone, "so I will take you the short way!"

With the matter settled, he gripped a dangling vine in his paws and started escalating the trunk of a mammoth Wroshyr tree, with Luminara Unduli dangling over his shoulder like an old bag.

"Ah, well" smiled the woman, good-naturedly, "it could have been worse. I could have been allergic to Wookie fur!"

Chewbacca climbed steadily, as the ground seemed to get farther and farther, until it vanished completely behind a blanket of swirling mists.

Luminara looked up, over Chewbacca's arms, only to see the green crown of the tree appearing from the clouds, in all of its breathtaking beauty.

Finally, they finished the descent, as Chewbacca hauled them both on the round, wooden platform which made up the Republic Command Center on Kashyyyk.

The Jedi Master was gently lowered by the Wookie on the floor, as her gaze quickly analyzed her new environment. Tufts of white clouds enveloped the platform, making it seem as if it were being surrounded by a translucent veil. Through gaps in the clouds there could be seen the pale blue of the sky or the deep green of the ocean.

A large table was positioned at the center of the platform. The seats were occupied by a group of clone commandos, who were listening intently as their leader gave his report of the battle to Coruscant.

As for Yoda and Tarfful, they were sitting in a corner, conversing quietly among themselves.

With swift strides, Luminara crossed the distance and bowed in front of the small Jedi.

Yoda's large, green eyes focused on Luminara, as he spoke:

"Something the matter is Luminara? Greatly troubled your spirit is, I sense."

"I had a warning through the Force, Master. Something very important has occurred."

"Felt it, I also have" the diminutive Master said, as he brought his green fingers over his forehead. "But what exactly it is, tell I cannot."

"Could it have had any connection with the Darkside?"

"Know the answer, I do not" Yoda sighed, his shoulders slumping. "The dark shroud over my eyes stretches."

Luminara nodded gravely. In the past three years of war, she had gotten to fully understand what it meant for a Jedi to lose his or her insight into the Future and even the Present.

"All I know is" continued Yoda, somberly, "that return to Coruscant as soon as possible, we must."

Tarfful had listened quietly to the entire exchange, until he felt the need to intervene:

"I'm afraid that speed is not an option, Master Yoda. It will take up to two days to prepare your cruiser for flight."

"Take the cruiser, we will not" Yoda shook his heat. "A small, fast ship, we need."

"But we have none" Luminara pointed out. "We came here equipped for land warfare, not a space assault."

"I believe we could be of assistance" Tarfful interrupted. "For a good while we have been strengthening our space fleet, in the hope that we could be of some assistance of the Republic."

Yoda's ears perked up at Tarfful's words.

"One of those ships give to us you can?"

"Of course, Master Yoda" agreed Tarfful. "Anything to show our gratitude for helping us liberate Kashyyyk!"

Yoda nodded slightly and turned toward the clone commander, who had just ended his transmission.

"Commander, leave to you the security of Kashyyyk, I do. Return to Coruscant swiftly, Master Luminara and myself must."

"Yes, sir!" saluted the commander. "We will return to the capital as soon as we will determine that the system is free of any Separatist presence."

Yoda gripped his wooden cane in both hands. It was a signal that he was ready to leave. Tarfful bent down and scooped down the tiny Master, placing him on his shoulder. Chewbacca did the same with Luminara and both Wookies descended deep within the Wroshyr tree through a small door in the Command Center's floor.

The tree itself was hollow on the inside, acting as a makeshift garrison for the Republic troops and medical center for the wounded. Large sections had been devoted to sensitive equipment and sensors which could pinpoint any type of enemy activity occurring in the Kashyyyk System.

The odd procession quickly passed through various rooms, as they descended deeper and deeper.

Finally, they reached a set of heavy, durasteel doors. Feeling the Force around her as the Wookies opened the doors, she suspected that they were underground, in some sort of bunker, deep beneath the tree's roots.

When they entered, large glowrods on the ceiling activated themselves, bathing the interior in a warm, yellow light. It appeared to be a very large hangar, full of different starships. All kinds of designs could be seen, from one-man snub fighters, to a large corvette.

"Our engineers have worked on them for months" explained Tarfful, setting Yoda on the ferrocrete floor. "Unfortunately, things got cut short when the Confederacy attacked, but most of them are complete."

Tarfful took a few steps and placed his paw on a medium-sized starship, with a bulky frame.

"This is the best of them all. It may look like an ordinary transport vessel, but do not be fooled, for appearances are deceiving. Hidden in compartments inside the fuselage is a vast arsenal of weapons, from laser turrets to proton torpedoes and an ion cannon."

Chewbacca grinned, showing large, dagger-like teeth.

"Any enemy who is fooled into thinking it has caught an easy prey won't live to regret his mistake!"

Yoda inspected the ship from nose to tail, nodding in agreement.

"Her name is _The Katarn_. She is named after a large predator living in the depths of our planet. Is it a fine enough ship, Master Yoda?"

"Good ship it is, indeed" agreed Yoda. "Thank you, General Tarfful."

The Wookie bowed deeply in front of the two Jedi Masters and watched them load their few belongings into the cargo bay.

"The Republic is having problems at its heart" said Chewbacca to his superior.

"How do you know that?"

"I have been around the Jedi long enough to learn how to read between the lines of their words" he answered. "They're heading into the fire."

"It is not our concern" Tarfful huffed. We have no authority to meddle in Jedi affairs

Chewbacca, however, wouldn't relent.

"General, please allow me to accompany the Jedi to Coruscant and offer any assistance that I can."

Tarfful looked at the younger Wookie, noting the spark of hope glimmering in his dark eyes.

"What good would it do? You are no Force-Sensitive. You cannot hope to aid them in their war."

"But they have risked their lives to help us in ours!" countered Chewbacca. "Honor dictates that we return the favor by any means possible!"

"Do not presume to teach me the Rules of Honor, cub!" growled Tarfful, dangerously.

Chewbacca stood still, as if he had been hit head-on by a freight train. To call an adult Wookie, with a life-mate and his own child, by the word_ cub_ was a very deep insult.

And a way to show said Wookie were his place in the hierarchy is.

"Regardless of what you may say" Chewbacca spoke, quietly, "I will go to Coruscant."

Tarfful sighed, frustrated by the other's stubbornness.

"Fine!" he relented. "But you will return directly to Kashyyyk once your part will be over. That is a direct order!"

Chewbacca saluted, a sign that he accepted the terms offered by Tarfful.

Luminara and Yoda had witnessed the entire argument and none of them tried to stop Chewbacca, as he boarded the ship. The determination that shined in the Wookie's eyes seemed like a soothing balm for Yoda. Compassion was the opposite of hate. In his visions, he had seen a pair of malevolent eyes that always spelled doom for the Republic and the Jedi Order. But with such noble beings as this Wookie at their side, maybe there was a small hope for the future.

And maybe, just maybe, the eyes of destruction could be blinded.

Forever.

**Author's Note: **Love it? Hate it? Drop me a review, so I can see what to keep and what to improve!


	12. The Darkness Within the Light

I'm very glad that my story seems to be well-received! When I posted the first chapter, I was afraid that I would get a lot of harsh reviews. As Dad always says, I'm much too shy and skittish for my own good! Of course, he's the one who also insists that I definitely don't get it from _his _side of the family:)

But the reviews that I keep getting really make me feel all warm inside and motivate me to write to the best of my abilities! Thank you very much, guys!

**Stephanie C: **Jedi Master Luminara Unduli is, indeed, a character from the Star Wars Universe. She is a tall woman, with yellowish-green skin and blue eyes. She is a Mirialan, from the planet of Mirial. She and her former Padawan, Bariss Offee are famous for their dual fighting style, each being able to guess the other's moves and strike in a perfect tandem. She is also one of my favorite Jedi Masters, along with Shaak Ti and Plo Koon.

Phew! Very difficult chapter to write! The time has arrived for Anakin to finally choose his path. Also, Nizzy's Guardian must teach his young protégé a harsh lesson.

**Chapter XII – The Darkness Within the Light**

**Unnamed ore-hauler, Unknown Star-System, 5.000 years A. B. N. **

A strong shudder gripped the small ship and made it shake violently, almost tumbling over its axis. A loud screech could be heard over the low rumble.

It was the sound of the realspace engines activating.

The ore-hauler had exited hyperspace.

Nizzy's head collided with the durasteel bulkhead and the girl tightened her lips against the blossoming pain. She felt confused, as large, colorful spots danced at the periphery of her vision.

"Easy, child" spoke the Guardian, placing his translucent fingers on the girl's forehead. She could feel warm energy enter her head and ease her pain.

"Thank you" she whispered, hugging her knees closer to her body.

"You are welcome" the spirit said, as he looked around, with a frown over his features.

"What's happening?"

"Apparently, we have exited hyperspace."

Nizzy clamped down on the sudden urge to fire a retort somewhere along the lines of: _Well, that's pretty clear, Mr. Obvious! _Instead, she asked:

"That means we've arrived at Coruscant, right?"

"No."

"What do you mean?"

"The journey to Coruscant should have lasted another standard day. We have only traveled half of the required distance?"

"Then why are we stopping?"

"I do not, know, child" the Guardian answered, thoughtfully. "There could be any number of reasons, from a technical failure to . . . "

But he didn't get to finish his sentence, as a voice rang through the ship's intercom:

"Everyone, please stay calm! We will be passing through the nebula in realspace and we will jump into hyperspace at the other end! There is nothing to worry about!

He was trying desperately to make his voice sound calm.

And was failing miserably.

"What nebula?" asked Nizzy, confused. "What's he talking about?"

I suggest we take a look" said the spirit, pointing to the hatch that sealed the small compartment in which they were hiding.

Nizzy nodded ascent and slowly pushed open the hatch, peeking out to see if anyone was about.

"It's all clear" she whispered, emerging from the crammed compartment and into the cargo bay.

The bay was devoid of any sentient life: the only thing which occupied the empty space was a massive mound of Cyliisian ore.

"Follow me" requested the spirit and started to climb up the mound, in order to get on the other side of the bay. Nizzy followed suit, taking extra care not to trip on the jagged pieces of rock. The girl bit her lip a few times, as her wounded leg throbbed when she tried to settle her weight on it.

"Don't cross if you can't" advised the Guardian, who had reached the other side.

"No, I can make it" denied Nizzy, stubbornly, gritting her teeth against the occasional needle of pain. "I won't let a dead guy beat me at climbing!"

The specter could only smile at the purposeful light that shined in the young girl's eyes.

_Indeed, we are more alike than you can imagine, child._

Watching her struggle against the odds brought a warm feeling in the old Emperor's heart. A feeling that he hadn't felt for thousands of years, not since _her _birth . . .

_No! _He ordered his own mind. _The Past is the Past, no matter how much one looks upon it and wishes that things had been different!_

His mind quieted, at the harshness of his own rebuke. Still he couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering to a nexus of Fate, so many years ago . . .

_The young woman lay on the marble floor, covered in her own blood. Her white jumpsuit was torn and shredded. A dark bruise had formed above her left eye. Her chest was rising and falling, as she struggled to breathe._

_He called her name, running across the room, begging the Force that she would survive._

_He fell to his knees besides her. His hands cupped her face gently, as he called out her name repeatedly, willing her to wake up._

_And her eyes opened. Twin jewels of the deepest velvet blue, like the depths of the ocean. Her swollen lips formed a pale smile, as she gazed upon him._

_His heart raced in his chest, as he supported her back with his hands, helping her rise. As she buried her face in his shoulder, he could smell the faint scent of Alderaani jasmine. Her favorite perfume._

_He felt her warm blood pour on his chest, staining his dark robe, but he didn't care. She was safe in his arms and always would be. Nothing would change that._

_Her battered visage rose and he could see the deep pain in her eyes. She was dying._

_No!_

_He had gripped her delicate shoulders with his fingers, felt her flinch in pain. He had shaken her roughly, as if that would keep Death away._

_Her head kept dangling from side to side, like a puppet on strings. Her beautiful eyes were glassy and she was clearly losing her focus._

_He begged her to hold on, that help would soon arrive, but he was not sure if she could hear him anymore._

_He felt her small frame relax in his crushing hold and almost roared in desperation. He could not lose her too! Death had taken all of his loved ones! Why should his only child pay for his mistakes?_

_Her head tilted back and he gazed into her surreal eyes once more._

_So much like his own._

_The small smile was still on her lips, as she raised a trembling hand with delicate fingers, to stroke his silver hair, as if reassuring him that everything would be fine._

_It would not be. _

_And then her eyes closed and she slumped on the floor, completely motionless._

_Death had taken her._

No, no it hadn't, he reminded himself, as he struggled to pull himself from his memories and back into the Present. No, she had still been alive, just barely. If only he had known the truth! The Galaxy would have had been spared much pain and sorrow if he had known that she had been alive.

"Hey, ground control to flight one? Anyone in there?"

The spirit focused in front of him, where Nizzy, who had crossed the mound was flapping her arms, in order to get his attention.

"Yes, young one, I am here."

"What happened? You were staring blankly ahead, mumbling something to yourself."

"I was just reminiscing about the past." he explained evasively.

When he saw the girl's inquisitive look, he added:

"It is of no importance. Let us focus on the here and now."

With that, he turned and walked to the only window in the bay, a small observation port. Nizzy followed him, reluctantly burying the pile of questions that she wanted to ask.

Did he always need to be this mysterious?

"Come, Nisadora! You are wasting time!"

Apparently, the answer was yes.

Nizzy approached the window and stopped alongside her Guardian. When she cast her yes out, the only thing that she saw was an obscure yellow haze.

"This is why we stopped?" she asked, incredulously. "A nebula?"

The spirit remained silent, squinting his eyes, as if trying to make out some unseen details.

"Aren't starships supposed to pass right through nebula clouds without dropping from hyperspace?"

"Not through this one" he answered quietly.

Nizzy raised her eyebrows, in a silent query.

"Just watch, Nisadora. You will see."

The girl nodded and started watching the scenery outside. The nebula cloud was truly beautiful, like sparkling waves of shimmersilk, beaded with diamonds which shined with the intensity of small suns.

The glittering waves seemed to part, allowing the bulky ship to gently glide through. The light from within the nebula hit Nizzy's eyes with such intensity, that the girl had to raise her arm over her face.

But it was indeed beautiful.

Light in its purest form.

Nizzy looked at her companion, who was deathly silent. He didn't seem very impressed by the beauty before him: his face was grim and his eyes looked as if they were chiseled in stone. No emotion could be read in them. The light from outside played on his harsh features, casting long shadows and making him seem very dark and frightening.

Nizzy felt a cold shudder run down her spine. She wasn't supposed to fear her own Guardian! He was the Jedi-Emperor and had been one of the Galaxy's greatest leaders . . .

But many stories told very gruesome things about him: that he had ordered orbital bombardments on planets which had opposed him, that he had his enemies murdered in secret and that an army of concubines was subjected to his every whim.

And yet other legends said the exact opposite: that he had been a virtuous man, living his entire life in celibacy, raising his only daughter, the future Empress; that under his benevolent reign the entire Galaxy had bloomed and prospered.

By now, Nizzy felt thoroughly confused. She didn't know exactly what to believe of her Guardian. And the fact that he shrouded himself in mystery didn't help improve the situation.

"You wish to ask me something" he stated, not taking his eyes off the window.

Nizzy gaped for a few seconds, until she remembered that he was a Force-user and probably could sense her shifting mood.

"Yes" she said, almost shyly. "I wanted to know if . . . if you're evil?"

The specter turned from the window and toward her. For just a second, Nizzy could see a brief flash of intense pain show in his eyes and in his features, before he controlled himself and the stone mask covered his face once more.

"Define evil." he said, gazing pointedly at her.

"What?"

"Define your conception of what evil is."

Nizzy frowned. She hadn't expected for him to ask her to explain what evil exactly was.

She didn't know if she could give him an answer.

"Evil" she began, hesitating, "is a person who harms others for pleasure. Who destroys something because he enjoys the _feeling. _Who wants to control everything just because he can"

"It that is your definition of evil" he stated, on such a cold tone that it gave Nizzy goose bumps, "to meet its demands, I would have had to kill you in the most painful way possible . . ."

Nizzy remained rooted to the spot, waiting for him to finish, with her heart hammering wildly in her chest.

The spirit leaned forward, so that he and the child were now looking eye to eye.

". . . and enjoy it as well."

Nizzy could only nod dumbly, as she stared in his blue eyes, which had now become as icy as a glacier's heart.

"Good" he stated, raising himself and turning back to the window.

The girl watched the nebula again, but her mind wasn't entranced by its beauty, as before.

_Regardless of what tales are true, _she remembered her Uncle tell her, _one thing is constant in all of them: they all agree that the Jedi-Emperor was a very dangerous man. Probably the most dangerous in the galaxy. Very few people had the courage to openly contradict him. He had a way of making his point accepted, that almost no one dared rise against him._

Now, she saw, in the man's sharp features that her Uncle hadn't been far from the truth.

"We are all dangerous, in our own way" he whispered, not bothering to look at her. "You, my dear, can be very dangerous as well. It depends how those around you look upon you. If they are weak, they will quickly submit to your will and tremble at your every word. And they will consider you dangerous. But they wouldn't be brave enough to do anything about it."

"Is that what happened to you?"

"Somewhere along those lines, yes. When a strong individual arises, it is normal that an army of weaklings would flock to his side, seeking protection. Individuals that could not stand up on their own legs or make their own voices heard. And for that protection, they would have to pay the price of unconditionally obeying their leader's orders."

"You're pretty cynical" Nizzy blurted out, before she could stop herself, by clamping a palm over her mouth.

The Guardian looked at her, a glint of humor shining in his eyes.

"Countless years of leading a wayward Galaxy have made me this way. I will never be the idealistic youth that I have once been. I have seen and done too much to be able to consider myself innocent or naïve ever again."

This only piqued the girl's curiosity even more, but when she opened her mouth to ask another question, the Emperor swiftly interrupted her:

"Enough, Nisadora! I believe that every man has a right to his privacy! And I certainly do not want to spend the rest of this journey answering questions about myself to a girl who is barely starting to understand the meaning of the word _puberty!_"

Nizzy felt her cheeks flush crimson, at the specter's harsh rebuke. Opting for the safest way out of the predicament, she wisely chose to keep quiet.

The spirit appeared to enjoy the silence, as he continued to stare outside, as if in search of something elusive, his face as unreadable as ever.

The girl sighed. How long would it take to clear this annoying nebula and jump into hyperspace again? She desperately missed her Uncle Dax and wanted to see him more than anything.

Destiny, however, apparently enjoyed leading her on a merry chase around the Galaxy, on an old rust bucket and with an unhinged poltergeist as a companion.

Wonderful! The Force surely must have discovered its sense of humor, morbid as it was.

Nizzy wanted to flop down on the pile of rocks and just forget everything around her, when she noticed her Companion suddenly grow tense. Her eyes instantly snapped toward the window, where she could see something extraordinary: the craft was reaching an empty spot, in the middle of the sparkling cloud. Soon, she would be able to see the heart of the nebula! Her Uncle had told her that the center of a nebula was truly spectacular, burning almost as bright as a new-born star.

The old ore-hauler slowly entered the clearing, as Nizzy held her breath and the specter stood saber-straight, his eyes focused ahead.

The shimmering veils parted in front of them and they could finally see . . .

Nizzy felt her held breath whoosh out of her lungs and her blood seemed to freeze in her veins, in horror. She stared, unable to comprehend the scene laid out before her.

Where the nebula's bright heart should have been stood . . . nothing. The center of the cloud was pitch black, contrasting with the light that surrounded it.

"What the . . . ?"

"This is the reason we couldn't continue on our hyperspace trajectory" the Guardian explained, grimly. "A black hole."

For the second time in the last hour, Nizzy felt completely speechless. No words in any language could put together her shock at the tableau in front of her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to pass through the black depths with her eyes, all that she always saw was darkness.

Darkness in its purest form.

"How . . . how did it get here?" she finally managed to find her voice.

"A supernova explosion" the spirit replied. "This entire area, up until recently, was the home of a very large star. It lived a long life, but, eventually, its end came. It grew and grew, doubling and tripling in its size."

"And it exploded?"

"No. With such an immense mass, her own gravity pulled her into _herself. _ It was the opposite of an explosion. An implosion."

"And then?"

"This black hole was created. It has such a strong gravity pull, that it will drag anything inside it. Even Light."

Nizzy shuddered. She did not want to imagine what would happen to a starship that was dragged inside the Darkness.

"It is so strong that it even distorts the fabric of Time and Space around it." said the spirit, pointing to the hole's edges, where Nizzy could see misty matter swirling like a cyclone.

"Will it pull us inside?"

"Not likely. The pilot is keeping the ship at a safe distance."

The two watched the spectacle, as the ship once more entered the golden veils of the nebula.

"I never would have imagined that it was here" the girl whispered, "that it can be hidden behind such beauty."

"And that, my dear, is what dragged many unwary space-explorers to their doom. They only looked at the Light, thinking that no danger could befall them. But you must remember this, child: Darkness can exist within the Light! And just as you saw here, many are fooled by a pleasant appearance, their eyes blinded to the darker truth."

From the bitter expression on his face, Nizzy judged that he was talking from personal experience, but stopped herself in time from asking another question. Instead, she focused on the only common ground that they had forged between them.

"I want to know more about what happened in the Past. Did Obi-Wan and Anakin manage to stop Palpatine?"

The Guardian smiled sadly, placing his fingers on the girl's forehead.

"We are all blinded to the truth by our desires, child" he answered cryptically. "A very wise man taught me this, a long time ago."

Nizzy could only feel the fabric of Time twist around her, as her consciousness returned to the Past . . .

**x x x**

**Planet Coruscant, Star System Coruscant, 13 years A. B. N. **

Night was cradling the planet of Coruscant in its dark wings. In the sky, the pale stars twinkled, but their light was overshadowed by the thousands of colorful displays which covered the city's skyscrapers.

A long, aerodynamic skiff was blasting through the traffic lanes, with what some would call "insane speed". The pilot appeared to be very gifted, for not a single scratch could be seen on the craft's fuselage, despite the fact that it had passed nearly millimeters from several walls.

"Please, Anakin, be careful!" pleaded Obi-Wan from his seat, his finger holding frantically on the headboard.

"We have no time for that!" Anakin answered sharply, making another dangerous turn.

Obi-Wan sighed and drew in a deep breath, to calm himself.

"Let me get this straight" he inquired. "You and Padme have been married for . . . "

"Three years. Since after the battle of Geonosis."

"And you managed to keep it a secret from myself and the Council all of these years."

"Yes."

"But why, Anakin?" the older man asked, the pain and disappointment lining his voice. "Why didn't you tell me? I thought you trusted me."

Anakin shook his head slightly, as her remained focused on piloting the skiff.

"I don't know if I trust you anymore" he answered in a whisper. "Not after all that has happened."

"I should be the one to say that about you, Anakin!" Obi-Wan retorted, harshly. "After all of the foolish things that you have done, you still say that _you_ cannot trust _me?_

Anakin man remained silent, his expression cold and forlorn.

Obi-Wan tapped his fingers on the control panel, watching as they quickly passed through several traffic lanes, leaving a stream of bewildered pilots in their wake.

"Anakin" the Jedi began, more softly, "I know that I haven't been here for you lately. If that has made you lose your faith in me, I am deeply sorry."

The young man turned to his former teacher, who was staring blankly ahead, pain and regret shining in his eyes.

"I clearly haven't been a good Master to you" he continued, his voice almost at breaking point "if you chose to seek understanding and comfort elsewhere."

Anakin felt like a saber had been run through his chest, at hearing his Master's self-accusatory words.

"No, Master!" he said, feeling a wave of shame pass through him. "No, you have been like a father to me!"

"And yet you do not have any faith left in me" Obi-Wan stated, with a sad smile.

"I . . . I thought you were trying to turn me against Palpatine. That you were in the Council's plot."

"Anakin, the Council has no secret plot to take over the Republic! Those are just Palpatine's lies, to sway you on his side!"

"They seemed very real to me" he answered, avoiding making eye contact with Obi-Wan.

"Because he _made _you believe them. Because you _wanted _to believe them. If what you said is true, then he is a Sith Lord! They are masters at the art of manipulation!"

"Right now" Anakin sighed, leaning deeper in his seat, "I honestly don't know _what _or _who_ to believe! Everything is so confusing! There is no clear line between good and evil anymore!"

"And there never was" Obi-Wan replied, somberly. "No one can say with certainty where the Light ends and the Darkness begins. And that is exactly the Jedi's task, Anakin: to try and guess where that border lies and stay away from it!"

"He promised me that he could save Padme" the young man murmured to himself, as he avoided a collision with a freight train.

"A Sith only uses his promises to achieve his goals."

"And the Jedi don't do the same?" Anakin snapped, his temper rising once more.

"Probably" Obi-Wan answered, silently.

Anakin stared at his mentor, shocked. That definitely wasn't the answer that he was expecting!

Obi-Wan chuckled, seeing the expression of his younger friend's face.

"The Jedi are not perfect, Anakin, even though the vast majority of the Galaxy's inhabitants consider us so. We are not Gods, but Mortals. And Mortals can make mistakes. They can have flaws."

The young Knight continued to listen attentively.

"We all have our own defects, be they large or small. Vanity, greed, lust, vengeance can all be found in a Jedi, just as in a normal sentient. But what separates us from the rest of the world, what gives us the aura of mystique that everybody seems to covet is our ability to _battle _with our own weaknesses and win! That is the entire purpose of the Jedi discipline: to train one's spirit to be strong in the face of temptation. Small sins can be, to a Jedi, almost as dangerous as the Darkside itself!"

Anakin looked in Obi-Wan's eyes. The older man's misty gaze held far more wisdom that his years should have normally allowed.

"I will not try to portray us as saints, Anakin, for we are not. We are living, breathing sentients, who can make mistakes! And who can find the power within ourselves to right our own wrongs."

The ear-splitting sound of a horn could be heard and Anakin slammed his hands on the controls, sending the skiff in a dive, as a cargo ship passed through the spot where they had been mere moments before.

"That was close" Anakin said, bringing the skiff back on course.

"Don't do that ever again!" Obi-Wan reprimanded, massaging an ugly bruise on his forehead. "I almost cracked my skull on this blasted windshield!"

"Sorry, Master" the young Knight promptly answered, like he had done so many times during his time as a Padawan, smiling slightly.

Obi-Wan tried to scowl and give the appearance of sternness, but he ended grinning as well; in moments like these, he couldn't stop himself from remembering the happier times that he and his pupil had shared.

"I never thought about the Order in that manner" Anakin said, becoming serious once more. "I always thought that a Jedi Master was supposed to be the epitome of perfection!"

"But he is not" Obi-Wan countered, gloomily. "And Palpatine probably used your uncertainty as a weapon against you, to bring you even more off focus."

"I still can't believe that he is the same devious Sith Lord that we have been tracking all these years! He . . . is too kind, too understanding . . ."

"I know this is hard for you to accept, but that has been just a façade that he has used to protect his true self. Unfortunately, he has been so good at deception that not even Master Yoda sensed anything wrong up until now."

"And he always listened to me" Anakin continued, placing his palm over his forehead, to calm an incoming headache. "Has always been there for me, through thick and thin."

Obi-Wan watched Anakin, feeling the battle within his soul through their bond. He felt a deep sadness resonate in him as well, because he could see clearly that his words were only causing the young man even further confusion, instead of helping him settle his problems.

Anakin raised his eyes from the controls toward the windshield, through which he could see the huge dome of the Senate looming closer and closer. Their journey neared its end . . .

"Whatever the truth in this entire mess is" he stated, with finality in his tone, "I will soon find out!"

Deftly maneuvering the craft, he entered the large hangar and placed it down on a platform.

"Anakin" Obi-Wan intervened, just as the young man was opening the glass canopy, to get out, "please remember that, no matter what happens this night, I will always love you as the brother that I never had. Whatever Palpatine may say, please remember our bond."

"Thank you, Obi-Wan" Anakin answered, hesitatingly. Although he was struggling to keep up a calm and controlled appearance, the powerful emotions that racked his soul could be heard in his voice.

"You're welcome, Padawan" Obi-Wan said, patting him lightly on the back. "I am here for you, remember that."

Anakin nodded, jumping down from the skiff, followed by Obi-Wan. The two men quickly started walking in a brisk pace, leaving the hangar and entering the equally empty corridors of the Senate.

They passed countless rows of doors, entire flights of stairs, large marble sculptures and paintings of idyllic corners of the Galaxy. Their eyes, however, didn't see anything of the environment. The only goal toward which they focused all of their undivided attention was reaching Palpatine's office, as fast as possible.

_May the Force grant me strength and wisdom, _Obi-Wan prayed silently, in his mind. _May it give me the resolve to protect my brother from the Darkness._

_You will be his guide, _an unknown voice echoed through the Force, _but the final choice will ultimately be his. His Destiny rests solely in his own hands._

Obi-Wan blinked, startled. He had an odd sense of deja-vu, as though he had heard that voice in the past. Shaking his head in denial, he attributed the whole thing to stress and quickened his pace to keep up with Anakin, who was barely controlling himself from jumping into a sprint.

Finally, they managed to reach the large, wooden doors that lead into the Chancellor's office. Sid doors were nearly ripped to shreds, dangling from their hinges.

The two men slowly made their way inside, with a growing sense of dread. Something was definitely not right.

The hallway of the office was completely dark, with no light penetrating the gloom. A dank, putrid smell hung heavily in the air, making both Jedi flinch. They had felt the vile scent many times during the war.

It was charred flesh.

"Look" Anakin whispered, pointing to a large, dark blotch, barely visible on the floor.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked, already dreading the answer.

"Coagulated blood" Anakin said, his voice hollow, devoid of any emotion. "A Jedi fell here."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a few seconds. He did not want to think about the Knight that died in such a gruesome way. Maybe it had been one of his long time friends in the Temple.

"Master!" Anakin whispered, motioning ahead. Obi-Wan nodded imperceptibly, swallowed the bitter bile that rose in his mouth and followed the younger man, entering the main office. Here, they both froze, bewildered by the scene that played out in front of them: Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was slumped on the floor, struggling to keep a red-bladed saber in his hands and Jedi Master Mace Windu used all of his strength to batter said blade away and deliver the fatal strike.

"Anakin!" shrieked Palpatine, his eyes growing wide with relief and exhilaration. "You're here!"

The Chancellor's scream made Mace's eyes snap toward the two newcomers, in shock.

"Kenobi! Skywalker! What are you doing here?"

"Let him go!" Anakin said on a dangerous tone, before Obi-Wan could respond.

"Of course not, Knight Skywalker!" Mace denied, his dark eyes flashing.

"Let him go!" Anakin didn't relent, his voice lowering even more. "Now!"

"Please, calm down" Obi-Wan pleaded, reaching out for him, but Anakin moved away from him.

"Anakin, he wants to kill me!" Palpatine whimpered, his sagely features contorted by fear.

"Not if I have a say in the matter!" the young Knight advanced, intently.

"Knight Skywalker" Mace barked, sharply, "for your own good, stay out of this!"

"Anakin, he is not to be trusted!"

The tall man stopped in his advance, his blue eyes searching Palpatine's face for answers.

"I told you that they were traitors!" the Chancellor ranted, looking as if he was near hysteria. "Traitors, all of them!"

"The Jedi have always been faithful to the Republic!" Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at Palpatine. "Do not accuse us of committing the sins that are rightfully yours!"

"Obi-Wan" Anakin whispered, tensely "stay out of this."

"I will not sit around and watch him have his way with you! Listen to me . . . "

Before he could finish his plea, an invisible, crushing wave of the Force slammed into him, making him slam his head in a wall.

For the briefest of moments, the look of utter fear on Palpatine's face was replaced with a dark, foreboding smile, only to be replaced by terror again. The chance was so swift that no one witnessed it.

Obi-Wan groaned, trying to clear his head of the intense pain he was feeling. A warm trickle on the left side of his face let him know that he was bleeding.

Anakin stood still, watching with mute horror as his Master rose, leaning on the wall for support, the entire left side of his face scraped and full of blood.

"Knight Skywalker!" Mace exclaimed, incredulously. "What in the Force's name are you doing?"

"Very good, Anakin" Palpatine goaded him on. "Show these infidels the true meaning of justice!"

Anakin couldn't move a muscle, as his almost pain-numbed mind sup around in circles. The Jedi had taught him all he knew – The Jedi were traitors. Obi-Wan was his mentor and truly loved him – Obi-Wan was using him for his own selfish purposes. Palpatine understood and supported him – Palpatine was the Sith Lord that he was sworn to destroy.

_Where, in this ocean of lies, does the truth lie?_

_Trust your feelings, Anakin. They will guide you to the Light._

Anakin's heart somersaulted in his chest, as he looked at his Master. Obi-Wan had spoken in his mind, through their link.

_Remember the bond of brothers that we both share._

Anakin swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. After viciously lashing out at him, Obi-Wan still wanted to help him?

_I am here for you, my friend. _

Suddenly, an inhuman cry filled the room, as Mace's saber managed to slightly make contact with Palpatine's shoulder. The old man screamed once again, tears spilling down his withered cheeks.

"Anakin! Please . . . save me, my son!"

"Don't you dare interfere, Skywalker!" threatened Windu.

"I beg of you, Master Windu" Anakin said, in a hoarse whisper, "don't kill him! I need him alive!"

"He is much too dangerous to be kept alive! He has full control of the Senate and the courts!"

"Please! I need him to save my wife's life!"

Mace's eyes widened, in bafflement.

"Your . . . wife?"

Palpatine started cackling madly, making all of the three men flinch.

"Kill me, if you have the courage, Windu!" he taunted, a brief glimmer of orange lighting his eyes.

"I most certainly have!" the dark-skinned Master snarled, bringing his blade down in a devastating ark.

_No!_

Anakin felt as if time had slowed down around him. He could see Mace's purple blade swinging down to cut Palpatine in half: could hear the Chancellor's cried mixed with maniacal laughter: could see his last chance slip through his fingers.

_No!_

His hand tightened around the hilt of his lightsaber. With an impossibly fast move, he ignited the cerulean blade. With one leap, he was at Mace's side, blocking his deadly attack merely centimeters from the Chancellor's exposed body. He slammed into Mace, hitting him in the stomach with his elbow and making him double over in pain. Gripping his hands, he twisted, throwing the tall Master over his shoulder and into the other side of the room, where he hit the floor, with a sickening crack.

The sound of bones breaking.

But the tormented Knight was past caring.

Walking with small steps, he knelt next to Palpatine, extending his gloved hand, to help him get up.

"Anakin" the old man murmured, rising slowly "I knew you wouldn't let me down! I knew it!"

He offered Anakin a rare, kind, luminous smile, which made the young man almost soar with relief.

"Are you alright?" he asked, helping Palpatine keep his balance.

"Not very much, thanks to you, my young friend" he answered on a warm, fatherly tone.

_Anakin!_

The Knight almost jumped when he heard Obi-Wan scream inside his mind. Turning around, he saw Obi-Wan kneeling next to Mace. The tall Master was completely motionless and a dark strand of liquid flowed from one of the corners of his mouth.

The enormity of what he had just done struck Anakin with the force of a meteorite. He had taken the life of a fellow Jedi. A Council member, for that matter. And he had done so willingly.

_What have I done?_

He let go of Palpatine and looked at his hands, in horror.

"What . . . have I . . . done?"

"It is of now consequence, Anakin" Palpatine tried to comfort him, on the same fatherly tone. "He was nothing more than a traitor and he deserved to die."

"No" Anakin spoke so quietly, that even someone sitting next to him would have had trouble hearing him. "No, he didn't deserve death. No one deserves that."

"Do not let your conscience cloud your judgment, boy!"

Palpatine's harsh words made Obi-Wan turn his misty eyes toward him.

"Conscience" he spoke, calmly "is the most precious gift in the Universe. Without it, we would all be like you! Heartless manipulators, who only care about total domination!"

"Look who's talking" Palpatine, huffed, with annoyance. "The Jedi Order has manipulated the _entire _Galaxy all of these years, tricking it into believing its defenders are saints!"

"We have our flaws" agreed Obi-Wan, approaching Palpatine, with an intense blaze burning in his sea-blue eyes "but we do not let ourselves be dominated by them!"

Palpatine's rakish grin seemed to get even wider, as he studied the Jedi Master.

"Anakin" he quietly addressed his protégé, "remember what I told you? That your Master is not to be trusted? That he has always whispered his perfect lies in your ears?"

"I do not lie!" Obi-Wan said, his fists clenching slightly. Looking at Anakin, he spoke more gently:

"I have never lied to you, my friend. Nor would I ever do it. I . . . have even broken the Jedi Code for you."

This time, both Palpatine and Anakin wore expressions of bewilderment.

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, slowly.

"The Code forbids attachments, other than the bond of Master and Apprentice. In our case, however, that bond is much stronger. I told you that I love you like a son. I haven't lied. If what I feel for you is a direct violation of the Code, then our laws definitely need to change!"

The two men gazed at each other for a few moments, Obi-Wan's eyes shining with a warm affection as he regarded his former pupil.

"I don't want to lose you, Anakin. Not like I lost Qui-Gon."

The gentle Jedi's name brought back painful memories, which seemed to strike Anakin with a vengeance. He remembered all too clearly the night in the catacombs of Theed Royal Palace, when the mortal remains of Qui-Gon Jinn had been burned in a funeral pyre, in customary Jedi tradition.

"_What will happen to me now?"_

"_The Council has granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi, I promise!"_

That promise, that oath sworn thirteen years ago still held true. It still united the two with almost unbreakable chains.

Almost.

"How touching" Palpatine demurred, disdainfully. "If I wanted to listen to useless sentimental drivel, I would have bought a ticket at the theater!"

Lifting his pale hands, the Chancellor suddenly hurled deadly lightning bolts at Obi-Wan, fitting the Jedi Master head-on and throwing him back, atop the crumpled form of Mace Windu.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin screamed, a part of himself wanting to run to his mentor's side, while the other part made him stay still.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, his eyes regarding Palpatine with barely restrained rage.

"He is of little importance, Anakin" the Sith Lord waved his hand, dismissively. "You will have to choose, my young friend."

"Choose?" Anakin growled, his gloved fingers curling around the hilt of his lightsaber.

"Between him and your wife" the Chancellor explained, smiling maliciously. "Between your desires and your duties."

Anakin's grip on the lightsaber tightened, as he realized that the moment of choice had finally come. No matter how much he had wished to delay it, the paths of his Fate were stretched out before him.

"Take your time, young man" Palpatine spoke, on the same fatherly tone. "But remember that the life of the one you love is in my hands!"

How could he? How could he choose between two sides of himself? How could he tear a part of his own Soul, maiming it forever?

_What path you take now . . . will overshadow your entire life._

Anakin's heart skipped a beat, in shock. He clearly heard Obi-Wan's voice, speaking to him through their link! But how could that be, when the Jedi Master was lying unconscious, beside the body of Mace Windu?

_Let me be your guide, Padawan! Don't shut me out!_

The young Knight felt a chord within his self resonate at Obi-Wan's words. Despite all the pain that he had caused him, his teacher still found the inner power to maintain their link and support him!

Palpatine seemed to feel the turmoil within Anakin, for he approached, raising his hand in a gesture of peace.

"Join me Anakin" he pleaded, in a soft tone "and together we will end this nightmare."

"Yes" Anakin, whispered, his strength fading under the onslaught of the emotional storm that ravaged him "we will end this nightmare . . . "

Slowly, his gloved hand released the lightsaber and rose to take Palpatine's.

_Be strong, Padawan! Trust your feelings! _

Palpatine's smirk widened even more, as he saw that his moment of triumph was fast approaching.

_If you cannot trust me, then have faith in the Force! It will show you the way!_

Anakin's wary eyes closed of a moment, as he drew upon the steady current of the Force. It immediately responded to his touch, surrounding him like a mantle, bathing him in a sea of deep azure. He felt its healing energies flow through his weary body, instantly calming his anxieties.

But there was something even deeper . . . something drawing him, like a moth to a roaring flame. He plunged farther in the ocean of Light, letting in guide him.

And then, he felt it. The true importance of the moment showed itself to him.

With his mind's eye, he could see the nexus of Destiny, in which he currently found himself in. He could make put the divergent paths, intersecting in one common point, in one unique moment.

This moment.

He understood that the smallest act performed now, in the nexus, had the power to alter his life completely.

And he would not be able to do anything to stop the chance.

_Open your eyes! See the truth!_

And so he did. Palpatine still stood before him, his features set in a kind expression, his hand outstretched, mere centimeters from Anakin's gloved one.

The Chancellor's smile was much too wide . . . it was . . .

Fake.

And behind the sagely gaze of his eyes, he could now detect something much more sinister. A primal desire.

For possession.

Everything had been a lie.

The truth showed itself completely to Anakin's eyes. On the outside, nothing in his stance changed. On the inside, however, the tempest picked up its pace, howling madly. Wave after wave of feelings, from betrayal to hate, fury and others which could not be named in speech, coursed through him. They coalesced into one single, burning core, until it was too much to endure.

Until all that he wanted to do was forget everything and anything around him.

The core imploded, like supernova, in its final death throes. It collapsed under its own weight, until nothing was left.

Nothing but a gaping, black void, in the center of his soul.

Anakin felt only numbness, as the extent of the web of lies that the Chancellor had sown around him finally showed itself.

And it was a web without any way of escape. The spider had managed to ensnare the fly.

_Do not lose hope, my brother! Have faith in yourself!_

Only now did he understand how much his spirit had been twisted under the Sith Lord's careful ministrations, as he used his own desires against him.

As he blinded him to the truth, using his own desires.

_Darkness can dwell within the Light, as a single entity. This only makes it all the more difficult to know which is which._

Anakin gazed at Palpatine. The Chancellor hadn't moved at all. He was so confident in the success of his plan, that he hadn't senses any of the revelations that had shaken the Knight to his very core.

_But you have the power to differentiate them._

He could see, through small cracks, through the luminous exterior.

And into a soul as dark as night.

_And you will make the right choice!_

"I grow tired of waiting, young man" Palpatine sighed, showing the first signs of annoyance. "Or do you wish to throw away the life of the one you love?"

"I will never do that!" Anakin said, a new strength lining his voice. "But neither will I betray the ideals to which I have pledged myself!"

Palpatine only resumed to raising one eyebrow.

"You want my soul, in exchange for the secret of life, but it is a price that I wont pay!"

As his gloved hand fell limply at his side, the cobalt fire of his eyes seemed to intensify.

"You are denying your Destiny?" Palpatine asked, this time truly surprised.

"My Destiny is my own to decide!"

"I hope you realize that, in denying my help, you forfeit your wife's life!"

"There are . . . other ways . . . to do battle with Fate" Obi-Wan whispered, struggling to regain consciousness. "Ways that . . . do not pass beneath . . . the shroud of the Darkside."

Palpatine's gaze returned to Anakin, his eyes having lost all of their earlier warmth.

"This is my final answer, Lord Sidious" the young man declared, gathering the last vestiges of his strength. "I will not become that which I am sworn to destroy!"

The Sith Lord regarded Anakin for a few moments, searching deep within his Soul for any traces of insecurity.

And found none.

"Very well" he stated, his voice sharp and raspy, his eyes glowing a menacing yellow. "If that is your choice, my friend, I am afraid that you will have to suffer the consequences!"

The entire office seemed to darken even more, as Palpatine's power began to show itself. The shadows grew longer, engulfing all traces of Light and the temperature instantly dropped a few degrees.

The Dark Lord of the Sith raised his ghostly hands, deadly tendrils of the Darkside engulfing the entire room in a halo of Death.


	13. Moments of Belief and Balance

Glad you guys liked the decision scene. I was kind of worried about it, thought I made it much too psychological . . . Anyway, here's the next chapter!

**BGTom: **If by a DBZ fighting scene you mean that anime where the warriors shoot balls of energy at each other, yes, there will be such a moment in the chapter. You definitely read my mind on this one! As for the show itself, I'm afraid I don't know much about Dragon Ball, only seen a few episodes at my brother's insistences!

**Lordwindwalker: **You wanted to know what _Shatterpoint_ is about? I'll give you a short description, but I'll avoid any spoilers for those that haven't yet read the book. The action takes place in the middle of the Clone Wars, a few months after _Attack of the Clones. _Jedi Master and Council Member Depa Billaba is sent to Karuun Kal, a planet in the Al'har Star System, with the mission of training the indigenous tribes (the korunnai) in the art of guerrilla warfare, against the Separatists. Depa eventually completes her task but fails to return to the Temple. Worried, Mace Windu, her former Master, decides to go to Haruun Kal (which, in an ironic twist of Fate, happens to be his homeworld) find Depa and bring her back. It's a very well written book, much darker than your usual _Star Wars _novel.

**Chapter XIII – Moments of Belief and Balance**

A popular fable says that, in order to chance one's Fate, one must make monumentally different decisions. It is not always true.

Sometimes, even the smallest choice may change one's path in life irrevocably.

It is not the grand wars that shape a Galaxy's history, but the small battles, which are fought in secret, away from the eyes of the world.

Many have said that the Clone Wars have been only a showdown between the Galactic Republic and the Confederacy of Independent Systems, with the victor being the government with the most resources, ships and personnel. Not true.

The _real _war was never about control of the Galaxy, but about the eternal struggle between Good and Evil.

And the real combatants have been the Jedi Knights, valiant warriors and peacekeepers. They have been the true targets of the mastermind behind the Clone Wars.

The war's reason was to weaken the Jedi Order. To turn it into a mere shadow of its former glory.

And, eventually, with the right amount of force applied at the opportune moment, destroy it.

Many of the Galaxy's residents slept peacefully in their beds, believing that, with General Grievous' demise, the war was finally over. What they did not know was that the peace they longed for would come only after many more years of hardships and turmoil.

Under the guidance of a man whose spirit was ultimately forged in the fires of war.

**x x x**

Anakin screamed. It was all he could do, as white tendrils of energy covered his entire body in thousands of searing caresses. He felt his knees give way underneath him, as he hit the floor, hard. The last remnant of his strength was being sucked out of his being by the onslaught of dark lightning.

A high-pitched, almost maniacal laughter rose above the young man's screams. Obviously, his tormentor was taking great pleasure in causing him pain.

Abruptly, the lightning stopped and Anakin had to steady himself on his forearms, to keep from hitting his head on the ground. All around him, the room seemed to spin madly, as his pain-numbed brain struggled to comprehend where he was and what he was doing.

"You didn't like that, did you, Anakin?" Palpatine asked, in a sweet voice. "I don't blame you. Having to experience Darkside lightning is never an enjoyable experience."

Anakin focused his eyes on Palpatine's hazy form. He wanted to yell, to throw himself at the dictator, but no part of his body seemed to respond.

"I remember when my Master applied some of this lightning on me. He always said that a good dose of pain is the best possible teacher for unruly apprentices."

"I am not your apprentice!" Anakin forced himself to articulate.

"Yet" Palpatine corrected him, smugly. "Your stubbornness is only a minor problem, which will soon be overcome!"

As if to prove his point, the Chancellor once again lashed at the defenseless Knight, whipping him mercilessly with electricity.

Anakin writhed helplessly on the floor, his body shook by shattering waves of excruciating pain. He wanted to get up and defend himself somehow, but the storm of dark energy kept him firmly in its grasp.

_Stop! Stop! Stop! _He frantically yelled in his own mind, as if he could abate the torment with sheer force of will.

_No more!_

But the attack didn't stop. Instead, it seemed to intensify. He felt his head slam into the boards of the floor, as his body was seized by uncontrollable spasms.

"Stop!"

And it ended. Anakin felt the lightning slowly leave his battered body. But is had not been his voice that had screamed, he realized, as he began to gain his awareness. Through the haze of pain that covered his eyes, he could see a man's silhouette interposed between himself and Palpatine.

"I will not allow you to harm him any further!" resonated a determined voice.

_Obi-Wan! _Anakin instantly recognized the cultured Coruscanti accent. It could only be him!

"Master Kenobi" Palpatine drawled, on a pleasant tone, "I suggest you get put of the way, unless you wish to suffer a similar fate!"

"You'll have to kill me first!" Obi-Wan countered, his voice straining with the force of the anger and disgust that he felt toward the Chancellor.

"That can be arranged" Palpatine answered, smoothly.

Unexpectedly, he launched another round of lightning, but Obi-Wan was ready. Igniting his lightsaber in a flurry of motion, he held it high, if a defensive position, using the blade to block the lightning.

That only seemed to enrage Palpatine even further, making him increase the power of his assault. The air cracked with the intensity of the dark power flowing through it. Obi-Wan tightened his grip on the weapon, for it was the only shield between him and the devastating strike.

"You are foolish, Master Kenobi, if you believe you can defeat me!" Palpatine snarled, his face contorted in fury and effort. "No Jedi can do that!"

"Your overconfidence is your weakness!" Obi-Wan said, slowly rotating the blade and spreading waves of lightning in all directions.

"Your faith in your pitiful Order is yours!" Palpatine lashed out, venomously. A dark tendril managed to sneak its way past Obi-Wan's defense, making the Jedi Master lose his concentration. That second was all Palpatine needed. Igniting his blade, the Chancellor lunged toward Obi-Wan, with a wide slash. The point of the lightsaber managed to avoid the Jedi's clumsy parry, searing a wide gash over his chest.

Obi-Wan cried out, his weapon tumbling from his hand and extinguishing.

"So, this is to be the end of the mighty Obi-Wan Kenobi" the Sith chuckled, attacking once more. "I expected you to be more of a challenge!"

The ruby blade however, didn't find its target, as it was intercepted by another one.

Palpatine looked up in surprise, only to see a pair of dark, stormy eyes, gazing fiercely at him.

"I don't think so" Anakin said, a feral smile twisting his full lips. "Your fight is with me, Sidious!"

"If you insist, Jedi Skywalker!" Palpatine spoke, the dangerous edge in his voice becoming apparent. Moving swiftly, he raised his weapon, delivering a long swipe toward Anakin's legs. The Knight anticipated the move and lowered the point of his blade, parrying the strike and forcing Palpatine to retreat, with a few strong pushes.

"I see the war has taught you much" the Chancellor observed, impressed. "However, you still have much to learn!"

Thrusting his lightsaber, he aimed for Anakin's heart. The young man moved to parry once more. but Palpatine changed the direction of the attack at the last possible second. The red blade passed through cartilage, muscle and bone.

Anakin screamed once more, as his remaining natural hand was severed from above the wrist. However, his hold on the lightsaber with his bionic arm never wavered, as he continued to deflect his opponent's strikes, pushing the maddening pain in the back of his mind.

"Enough!" Palpatine rasped, curling his withered fingers in midair. Anakin felt his throat constrict, as if an invisible iron chain was being wound tighter and tighter around it. He tried to breathe, but no air would enter his lungs. He frantically kicked his legs, as he was lifted from the ground by the strange power.

"This is but one of the benefits of the Darkside" Palpatine explained, on the tone of a salesman advertising his product. "Now what do you have to say, foolish boy?"

Anakin struggled to speak, but all he could do let out a few gurgling sounds. His vision was beginning to fade, as the effects of oxygen deprivation made themselves known. He kept hearing an annoying ringing in his ears, his head was throbbing and his starved lungs burned in his chest.

"There was no way you could succeed against me, Anakin! Only now, do you see the price of your arrogance!"

The young Knight was almost unconscious and could barely hear the Sith Lord's goading words. Darkness stirred at the edge of his vision, edging closer and pulling him deeper into Oblivion. He held onto consciousness with all of his remaining power, but this was clearly a battle that he could not win.

"A pity you have to die this way. You could have been one of the most powerful beings of all time!"

Anakin closed his eyes, giving in to the other's overwhelming strength. He could not go on.

It was pointless.

The Darkness finally engulfed everything around him. He felt himself dragged into a warm cocoon, inside of the obscure haze. Abandoning the fight, he allowed unconsciousness to take him.

It was pointless to resist.

_No!_

His body suddenly jerked, as an explosion of white filled his eyes. He could not succumb in the face of the Galaxy's scourge! He was the Chosen One!

But he had no more strength to pull him away from Death's clutches. He could not free himself.

The bright, incandescent veil of white spread even further over his eyes, making him cringe in surprise. He could almost see something there, in the heart of the light, a pale silhouette, contrasting against the background . . .

The light wrapped itself around him, seeming to protect and nurture him. It burned with intensity around him, only to vanish in an instant. In its wake, it left totally new surroundings.

For a moment, he thought that he was in a jungle, judging by the lush vegetation all around him. But large and wide permacrete walkways and a glass dome through which the sun's rays poured from above made him realize that he was in a greenhouse.

Directly ahead of him, he could see a bright clearing. A child, appearing to be no more that five years old stood in a makeshift swing, smiling and giggling. Behind her, a tall man, clad from head to toe in a black uniform gently swayed the swing.

The girl's crystalline laughter was like a blessing to Anakin's ears and, for reasons that he could not comprehend, he felt his heart beat faster and a warm glow starting to burn within himself.

_Maybe I will have a daughter like her, _he thought, the joy inside himself increasing. _A child of my own, to raise and love._

The swing stopped swaying, as the girl looked toward him. Anakin gasped, amazed. The child's delicate face was framed by dark-brown chocolate curls and her full lips smiled mischievously. But it was her eyes that caught his attention. They were a dark blue, as the night sky, sparkling with mirth.

The child turned her head toward the man standing behind her.

"_I love you, Papa" _she said, in a cute, lilting accent.

"_I love you, too, my little angel" _the man answered, a deep fondness and warmth lining his deep voice.

At that point, Anakin was struck speechless, as he realized that the girl could only be his offspring! He saw so much of her mother in her; and yet, there were traits of his own as well mixed in the child's visage.

The only thing that he could do was stare at her. Indeed, she resembled an angel: she was dressed in a silken white dress, her curls adorned with two white ribbons. With one arm she held onto the swing and with the other she clutched what appeared to be a stuffed toy to her breast.

"_You are, and will always be, my all" _the man spoke, the strong emotions that he felt for his progeny shining in the Force like a new-born star.

And then he knew: he was seeing a rare glimpse into the future, given by the Force. Laid out before his eyes, he looked upon what was to come. A bright future, maybe full of happiness and unbridled joy.

A future that would be permanently destroyed if he allowed Palpatine to have his way.

"_I believe you, Papa. I believe in you!"_

His child . . . his own flesh and blood would be born and live in a very dark world if he abandoned the battle now! He would not disappoint her! Not as long as there was still some life left in him!

Calling upon the Force's aid, he allowed the rippling current to swarm around him like a cyclone. But he himself stood perfectly still, willing his mind to empty of all thoughts and emotions. He needed all of his focus if he wished to brake Palpatine's hold over him.

Wave after wave of calmness swept through him, making him almost forget about the intense pain that his body was enduring. He allowed his Soul to completely empty itself, as he stood, the quiet eye of the storm, the pillar of strength in the middle of the Force's turmoil.

And, in the first of a series of very rare moments in his life, he felt himself in Balance.

Extending his reach in all directions, he started pushing against the solid wall of Darkness that Sidious had erected around him. On the first tries, nothing happened, but Anakin couldn't allow himself to feel despair. He was to be the father of a wonderful child and he wished that his precious girl would grow up protected from the ever encroaching Darkness.

The child's image gave him the power and sheer force of will to continue.

His efforts were soon rewarded, when he felt a small, barely noticeable crack in the dark wall. Directing all of his strength toward it, he started to gradually make it larger, slowly tearing down the wall, bit by bit.

When he felt the gap to be large enough, he set his senses to feel beyond it. What he felt almost made him leap with happiness. Palpatine was so entrenched on pulling the life out of him, that his own shields were down!

Gathering the Force as his weapon, he lashed out at the dictator and struck his unprotected mind.

He felt everything around him shake, as Palpatine cried out in pain, almost deafening. Then, he was aware of an intense pain once more, as his Soul crashed back into his body.

Couching and retching, he rolled on the floor, struggling to gain control of his almost unresponsive body.

Close to him, Palpatine was feeling almost the same, only that his pain was clouded by a heavy fog of amazement. How had Skywalker managed to do that? He remembered holding him in the air, in a strong grip, feeling as the boy's life slowly drained away. He had enjoyed tremendously seeing the mighty Chosen One, writhing and struggling in his grasp, as he bathed himself in his life energy. Feeling the boy's anger and hate crash into him had been almost orgasmic, as he continued to drink his life away. It was like a dark ambrosia, feeding his own strength and leaving him craving for more.

But just as he was about to reach his climax, a single jolt of the Force struck past his wall and hit him in the full! Only in those seconds did he realize his own foolishness! He had been so absorbed with what he had been doing, that he underestimated Anakin's abilities.

And that had cost him dearly.

Still lying on the ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps, Anakin ventured to raise his gaze, only to find himself gazing directly into Palpatine's face. However, any appearance of gentleness had vanished from the Chancellor's face. His wrinkled skin was stretched taut over the bones of his cheeks, his thin, cracked lips twisted in a dangerous snarl, revealing a series of yellow, rotten teeth.

But the eyes were the ones that chilled the young Jedi to the bone. They were an inhuman shade of orange, with a demonic fire seeming to blaze within their depths.

"Skywalker" he rasped, on a hollow voice, "this will be your last act of defiance in this life!"

Raising his bony hands over his head, Palpatine started drawing heavily on the Darkside, calling it to him, forcing it to do his bidding. A searing bolt of dark energy started to gather in the Sith Lord's fingertips, as Anakin realized that the strike that would come was to be fatal. In the few seconds that he had left, his eyes searched for Obi-Wan. He found him slumped against an upturned piece of furniture, folding two blood-stained hands over his chest, in order to stop the massive hemorrhage. The Jedi Master's eyes were also wide with horror, as Anakin realized that Obi-Wan was much too wounded and weakened to be able to help him.

"Your end is here!" Palpatine snarled, as he hurled a massive bolt of Force energy toward Anakin. The young man could only shield his face with his hands, as he silently prayed in his mind for a quick end.

But it never came.

At the edge of his vision, Anakin could see a dark silhouette move with unfathomable speed. Before he could do anything, the person interposed itself between him and Palpatine.

And was hit by the blast's full power.

Anakin could only look on in shock, as the man's body was thrown back and over him, making him almost cry out. Gritting his teeth, the young man pushed the other off of him and turned him around, to see his face.

Only to find himself staring at the Mace Windu's chiseled features.

"Master . . . Windu!" he whispered incredulously, gripping the other's wrist and feeling a very low pulse. "You're alive?"

"Only just" the elder man coughed, dark blood spluttering from his mouth.

Anakin felt sorrow, remorse and shame grip him, for it was he who had turned on the Council Member, wounding him.

"Why?" he asked, hoarsely.

"Because you are far more important that me" Mace answered, wiping the blood from his mouth.

"But . . . I turned against you! I broke almost every law in the Code!"

"Shut up, boy!" Mace ordered, a thin smile relaxing his features. "I feel your regret and I forgive you. However, you must learn to forgive _yourself_, if you wish to be of any help to this Galaxy."

The tall Master's body was shaken by spasms, as another wave of blood came out.

"The Galaxy will rest on your shoulders one day, son. I have faith that you will be strong enough to handle it. I believe in you, Anakin. Only now, at the end, I truly believe!

With a final spasm, Mace Windu's body went limp, as his spirit ascended, to become one with the Force.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Anakin raised a shaky hand and closed the Master's eyes.

"He was alive?" came Palpatine's surprised remark, as everything seemed to spiral out of his control.

Clenching his fists and ignoring the throbbing pain in the cauterized stump that had once been his left palm, Anakin lifted himself from the ground. His stormy eyes fixed Palpatine with an unblinking gaze, as if goading him to try anything else.

"If I wasn't a Force adept" the Sith remarked, on a hissing tone, "I would have believed that you have a fool's luck, boy!"

"There is no such thing as luck" Anakin answered, coldly. "Only the Force."

Hissing again in rage and anger that every one of his plans of the night had been shattered by the young Knight standing in front of him, Palpatine sent another wave of Force lightning,. intent on finishing him off.

Anakin, however, had no intention of giving up the fight. Raising his prosthetic hand in front of him, he once again called upon the Force to give him strength.

And it obeyed, for it seemed to love Anakin, as it had never done another before.

The dark jolts sizzled through the air, but this time they hit their mark, impacting with Anakin's outstretched hand. Palpatine could almost laugh with glee, as he imagined through what torment the young Skywalker was going.

When no screams of agony could be heard, the dictator looked more closely. What he saw made him gasp in shock.

None of the bolts touched Anakin, as they seemed to enter his hand, without causing any damage at all! With a small pang of panic, Palpatine realized that the young man was _absorbing_ the lightning!

Stopping his assault, the Sith Lord stared at Anakin's unfazed form. A bright fire blazed in the Jedi's eyes, as currents of electricity buzzed through the fingers of his hand.

"My turn" he said, quietly. Opening his palm, he sent back the entire charge, directing it toward Palpatine, in a condensed sphere, as Yoda had done against Count Dooku, on Geonosis.

Palpatine had only a millisecond to throw himself to the ground, as the massive amount of energy slammed into a wall, blasting it to pieces with a deafening sound. The Chancellor gritted his teeth, as large chunks of the obliterated wall hit him in the back. Gripping tight onto the power of the Darkside, he gathered strength to pull himself up from the pile of debris under which he had almost been buried.

"Stop this, Palpatine" Anakin said, firmly. "Give yourself up and I will appeal to the Jedi Council to give you clemency."

The fact that he was receiving pity from his almost destroyer made Palpatine's rage burn even hotter, flooding his body in an incandescent wave.

"Never, _Jedi!"_

"Than so be it" Anakin spoke, his tone not losing any of its power. Plunging himself even deeper in the mysterious currents, he allowed the Force to give him insight and help him make his choice. Palpatine could only look on, in astonishment, as for a few seconds, the scruffy, wounded, blood-covered Jedi seemed to disappear, replaced by something far grander, as the light of the Force swirled around him. For a few fleeting moments, Palpatine could see his aura, burning at an almost blinding intensity, a white-hot flame, surrounding the young man. The dictator realized all too well what he was seeing: a rare glimpse of the Chosen One's true potential. His anger soared even higher, at the thought that he was being denied control of this power, which would, one day, surpass his.

From the corner where he lay, fighting against the searing agony in his chest, Obi-Wan watched on, in amazement, seeing the same thing that Palpatine had.

Seeing a small glimpse of the Chosen One in his most powerful form.

Seeing and for the first time, believing with all of his heart that Qui-Gon had been right.

And, suddenly, Palpatine lunged forward, with an inhuman shriek, gripping Anakin by his wide shoulders and, with a insane cackle, pour dark lightning through the young man's tall frame. Obi-Wan could only look on, helplessly, as Anakin pursed his lips, struggling against the pain, no sound coming out of his mouth.

_Through sheer force of will, one can accomplish almost anything, _Obi-Wan remembered his Master's wise lectures, as he saw them illustrated in front of his eyes. Fighting his twitching muscles, Anakin slammed his metallic hand over Palpatine's face. For a moment, Obi-Wan couldn't understand what the other Jedi was doing, until he heard the Chancellor's agonized screams rend through the office.

And the stench of charred flesh grow even heavier in the air.

Jolting to his feet, Obi-Wan realized, with dawning horror, what Anakin was trying to do. He was gifting Palpatine with the effects of his own torment, using his own body as a catalyst for the lightning. The plan was obviously functioning, as the Sith's movements grew more sluggish and his yells more quieter.

But the same thing was happening to Anakin as well, Obi-Wan understood. The young man was willing to give his own life, in order to stop Palpatine!

Gathering his remaining strength, Obi-Wan hauled himself up, using one hand to apply pressure to his chest, stopping the bleeding and the other to lean against the wall for support. Ignoring his body's protests, he slowly inched his way to the two men locked in deadly combat. Willing the Force to aid him, the Jedi Master sent a shockwave between the two, separating and flinging them in opposite sides of the room.

His strategy worked, as Anakin tumbled out of harm's way and Palpatine flew into a shelf full of porcelain vases, breaking them under his own weight.

Limping heavily, Obi-Wan knelt in front of Anakin, who was struggling to get his bearings back.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, as Obi-Wan helped him up. "I almost had him!"

"But is the price of your own life worth paying?" the older man asked.

"If it will ensure a better future for the Galaxy, yes."

"You are forgetting that I won't allow you to forfeit your own life" Obi-Wan reminded him, shaking his head at the young Knight's premature wisdom. "Now come, we must get out of here!"

"What about Palpatine?"

The Chancellor lay in a mass of broken porcelain, moaning softly as he fought to regain consciousness. His previously handsome face was now hideously scarred, his skin turning a repulsive shade of gray from the devastating effects of his own lightning.

"Unless you haven't noticed" Obi-Wan pointed out "he is much too strong for the two of us to handle alone. If we wish to leave this place in one piece, now is the time!"

"But if we don't kill him now" Anakin insisted, stubbornly "he will bring more darkness and suffering to the Galaxy!"

"I'm not even sure that anything _can _kill him" the Jedi Master spoke, in a gloomy, foreboding tone. "His day of reckoning will come! But not today!"

Anakin nodded ascent, surprised by the steel lining Obi-Wan's voice.

"I didn't know you could see the future as well" he joked, as they both limped to the broken window, supporting each other's weight.

"Call it more of a hunch" Obi-Wan said, as they reached the window. "Any ideas?"

"We leave the fast way" Anakin stated and, before Obi-Wan could ask just what he meant, the young Jedi took out a roll of steel cord, with a grappling hook attached to it, from his utility belt. Spinning the cord through the air for a few moments, he took careful aim and threw the end with the hook out the window. A clunking sound could be heard, as he hook attached itself to something and Anakin pulled on the cord, to test its resistance.

"You don't honestly want us to rappel down a hundred stories" Obi-Wan said, disbelievingly.

"You got a better plan?"

When the older man shook his head, Anakin wrapped the cord around his waist, securing it firmly.

"Hold on to me" he ordered. "I got only one hand left to use and I can't support you with it!"

Obi-Wan quickly obeyed, wrapping his arms around the younger man's shoulders and holding tight. Anakin took a deep breath, gripped the cord with his remaining arm and jumped out the window. He felt Obi-Wan's grip on his shoulders tightening and the cord grow taut.

"Poodoo" he swore, as the force of the fall sent them slamming in the side of the building.

"Careful, Anakin!" Obi-Wan winced, as his back hit the hard permacrete wall.

"I'm doing the best I can!" the Knight answered through gritted teeth. Activating a reel on his belt, he started to lower them slowly, on the cord.

A loud, harrowing laugh instantly made both of them look up. On the window's broken frame, stood Palpatine, his yellow eyes shining with a sinister light in the night's darkness.

"There is no death, there is the Force" he cackled, mocking the Jedi Code's sacred edict and, before anyone could do anything, he severed the cord with a swift move.

Anakin let out a string of Huttesse curses, as both he and Obi-Wan plummeted through the air. Reaching out, he used his bionic arm to grab fold of one of Obi-Wan's wrists. Twisting the current of the Force around him, he used the last remnant of his physical power to try and somehow slow down their descent.

He felt his head hit something hard and his vision faded out, as darkness once again encroached around him.

They fell through the night's cold air, as Anakin finally surrendered and allowed unconsciousness to take him.

**x x x**

On Corellia, the old scout lay on his bed. His breath came in shallow pants, as he desperately held on to life. The dark-skinned, blue-eyed Hekaryan shaman's voice still resonated in his mind, but he didn't struggle against it anymore. It was soothing, in a way, clearing his mind of fear and anxiety.

_We must rejoice, for the Son of the Suns walks the path of the Light._

The man felt an odd sense of peace at the shaman's words. He never understood just who the Son of the Suns was, but he felt joy in hearing that he had not sccombed to the Darkness that was poisoning the Galaxy.

_Perhaps there still remains a small glimmer of Hope, in these dark times._

The old man could only agree, as the flame of life slowly flowed out of his weakened body.

_Although Hope may be frail, it is very hard to kill._

The Corellian smiled, contentedly. He felt a warm light enclose around his being, calming and soothing. If this was what death really felt like, he realized, he had nothing to fear. Closing his eyes, he relaxed himself. Everything would be fine, he knew it. Darkness dwelled over the world now, but one day, Light would destroy it.

Smiling slightly, he finally released his grip on life, allowing himself to gently drift upwards, becoming one with the Force in a flash of blinding Light.


	14. The Sun Shall Rise Again

Hey guys, I'm back! Sorry for the long delay, but my mainboard saw it fit to die on me in the middle of a World of Warcraft session and I had to go get it fixed. Boy, when it comes to hardware, I have incredibly bad luck! The trouble was pretty serious and the guys at the shop had to replace a few components. I swear, if it causes me any kind trouble again, I'm liable to chuck it out the window!

**Lordwindwalker: **Thank you for the review. No, I haven't read _Cestus Deception_ for a simple reason: before they are released on the market in Romania, foreign books are translated, a very slow process that can take up to a year per book! Seeing as there are dozens of Star Wars novels, I don't even want to think about the time necessary to translate them all! _Shatterpoint _is one of the few that can be found in shops. There is the alternative of ordering the English versions via the Internet, but that is out of the question, since I don't have the pleasure of owning a credit card and my Father's is off limits ever since I tried to use it to order a Halloween Darth Vader costume, worth about 100$. :)

**BGTom: **Yes, they will arrive before the Clones, since Palpatine hasn't even given Order Sixty Six yet. This and the next chapter will show the preparations for the siege of the Temple.

**Elessar-Lover: **Thank you for the kind review! Though I'll probably never have enough guts to challenge the Episode III script for supremacy, it makes me very happy to see that people are enjoying my writings!

**Stephanie C: **No, Anakin could not destroy Palpatine, even if he tried with all of his might. That brief glimpse of power was just that – a glimpse, a heralding of what is to come. Although he managed to slow down Palpatine, he was very weak from the battle (not to mention the loss of a second arm!) and would have ended up dead if he hadn't left with Obi-Wan. Maybe in the future, when he becomes stronger and begins to realize his true potential . . . Besides, if I killed Palpy now, I would be left without a bad guy to hug and cuddle /spots audience and throws away Palpatine doll, smiling innocently/

This time, it is Padme's turn to be guided by the Force in her darkest hour, to recover her shattered faith. Hope and Despair weave themselves together, to form the complexity of human nature.

**Chapter XIV – The Sun Shall Rise Again**

**(The Irony of Life)**

_Who saw no Sunrise cannot say  
The Countenance 'twould be.  
Who guess at seeing, guess at loss  
Of the Ability._

_The emigrant of Light, it is  
Afflicted for the Day.  
The Blindness that beheld and blest -  
And could not find its Eye._

**Emily Dickinson – Who Saw No Sunrise Cannot Say**

As a harsh contrast to their emptiness in the eventful might that had passed, at the first hours of early morning, the Senate halls were filled with a motley mix of denizens from almost every corner of the civilized Galaxy. Looking at the army of Senators, diplomats, aides, valets, various beaurocrats and protocol droids, a casual observer would instantly assume that this was a typical morning in the institution that had lead the Republic for the past 25.000 years.

And he would be sorely mistaken.

A heavy cloud of anticipation seemed to float in the air, brimming and boiling constantly. If said observer were to be Force-sensitive, he would feel the tingling of thousands of little needles on their consciousness, created by the countless agitated minds in the Senate. No one seemed to have missed the feeling of intense restlessness, as gossip was traded at corners with unthinkable speed and a rumor could pass through the entire infrastructure in just a short hour.

Everyone felt, deep down inside themselves, that something monumental would happen soon. That an entity which had stood unchallenged for thousands of years would be changed forever.

Amid the hustle and bustle in the main hallway, Senator Padme Amidala slowly made her way through. Gazing at her, everyone saw a very determined woman, clad in an ample, dark purple gown, her hair intricately twisted around a metal headpiece, shaped as a half-moon. But no one had such a keen eye to spot the small signs that betrayed her calm demeanor to be just a pretense. No one saw the dark circles, hidden deep beneath layers of make-up, the paleness of her skin or the almost extinguished spark in her once joyful eyes. She carried herself with the pride and dignity that was expected of someone of her stature, keeping her inner anxieties hidden. The rumors reached her ears and she did her best to ignore them. Many of her colleagues bid her a good morning and she answered them, her lips twisting into a forced smile.

_Where is Anakin?_

The question had assailed her for the entire night, keeping her awake. She had tried to comm her husband several times, but his personal comm frequency was closed. She had contacted the Jedi Temple for information, but all that she was told was that Knight Skywalker was not there.

_Where is my husband?_

Later, she had tried to reach the Chancellor's office, knowing all too well that Anakin spent most of his free time with Palpatine. But no answer came.

As she lay awake on the verandah, watching the pale stars on the Coruscanti skyline, she could not stop the dark thoughts that assailed her mind. She felt as though a massive weight was hanging on her shoulders, the pressure increasing constantly. Her husband's obsession, the failed petition, Palpatine's now unveiled lust for power were all wearing the young Senator down, making her doubt even the values and principles that had been instilled in her as a child.

_How I miss the fields of Naboo, _she sighed mentally, as she started to ascend the steps to the Senate's main chamber. _The sun shining through the leaves, the birds chirping and playing on the tree branches._

All around her, a massive flow of sentients was slowly making its way to the large rotunda. The Chancellor had called an emergency session and presence was mandatory for all Senate members.

As she settled into her pod's seat, Padme couldn't help but feel a shiver of fear pass through her body. Something was very wrong.

"Milady, are you alright?" asked Motee, the handmaiden that accompanied her. "You look very pale. Is it because of the . . . _situation?_"

"No, Motee" Padme answered, smiling weakly. Her handmaidens were among the very few people who knew of her pregnancy and were sworn to secrecy. "I didn't get much sleep last night. It will pass."

"If you say so, Milady" Motee nodded, looking none too convinced.

Padme leaned forward, to get a view of the entire chamber. The other pods were being filled with representatives from all sides of the Republic. Soon, the Senate was filled to its maximum capacity. The young Senator had never seen the gigantic rotunda seem so full of energy and exuberance. Almost everyone was speaking at the same time, raising their voices in a vain attempt to drown out everyone else. A cocktail of languages reverberated across the room, from Huttesse, Bith, Shyriiwook etc. The sentients that could not communicate through sound used their diverse tentacles, appendices and limbs to have their part in the general pandemonium.

What was everyone saying?

Change is in the air. The war is finally over. But what direction will the Republic take?

It was this delicate subject that caused the commotion among the delegates. Many shared different views and opinions as to the Galactic Republic's future development and had no qualms about making themselves heard loud and clear.

"This is supposed to be the model institution for the citizens of the Galaxy" Padme whispered, forlornly, as she quietly surveyed those around her. "What is this world coming to?"

The noise was too great and her ominously prophetic queries went unheard.

Suddenly, the entire room went quiet in a single second, as, from the center of the floor, Palpatine's pod began to rise slowly. Compared with the earlier ruckus, this silence was almost deafening, as all of the delegates seemed to be holding their breaths. Never had the Supreme Chancellor's entrance been expected with such tense anticipation.

As the pod rose to its fixed position, in the chamber's center, Padme's eyes widened, as their gaze landed on the Chancellor. Flanked by his aide, Sly Moore and the Chairman Mass Amedda, Palpatine was almost completely covered by a dark-red cloak, the hood pulled over his face, obscuring his features. The very small portion pf his face that could be see made Padme shudder with shock and revulsion: his skin was of a grayish color and it appeared withered and melted on his bones. His blackened lips were slightly twisted, revealing yellow, decaying teeth.

_What has happened? _The woman asked herself, her mind reeling.

"Fellow members of the Galactic Senate" Palpatine's voice rasped, spreading in the entire room, as many delegates involuntarily flinched. "I have called for this emergency meeting of Congress to address a very urgent matter that has arisen."

The entire chamber watched and waited, the air almost boiling with anticipation.

"In a brazen move, the Jedi Order has decoded to undermine the authority of the Galactic Republic" Palpatine went on, as many eyebrows were cocked in surprise and puzzlement.

"The Jedi Knights, during the past night, carried out an assassination attempt, I being its target."

The quietness that gripped the chamber in its clutches was almost suffocating. No one dared utter a single word. The shock sweeping across the pods was indescribable in any galactic language.

Padme felt as if she had been punched in the stomach, as the breath that she was unconsciously holding came out slowly. The Jedi. traitors?

_It cannot be!_

"Still, I am pleased to announce that the Order's coup has been foiled!" the Chancellor continued, as small pockets of Senators began to applaud.

Padme nearly jumped out of her seat, as Bail Organa entered the pod, seating himself next to her.

"What's happening?" he asked, frowning slightly toward Palpatine.

"The Chancellor has been elaborating on a plot by the Jedi to overthrow the Senate" she answered him, her own words making her scream in her own mind:

_It's not true! It's not true!_

"The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!" Palpatine announced, his voice rising, as more and more Senators started applauding.

Padme struggled to quell the urge to cry out in horror. She knew all too well what would follow: genocide. The entire Order would be hunted down and destroyed, at the Chancellor's orders. Obi-Wan, Yoda, Plo Koon, they would all die under the iron heel of the dictator.

_Anakin!_

Her slim fingers curl around the chair's armrests. It was not possible! Her husband could not be a target!

And still the truth stood in front of her eyes, in the form of a gnarled, cloaked man, whose malicious gaze seemed to hold the entire room in check.

"The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed" Palpatine continued, in his hollow voice, touching his cheek with a pair of bony fingers "but, I assure you that my resolve has never been stronger!"

The Senators applauded with even more enthusiasm, many of them calling out to Palpatine, expressing either their sympathy, or their hatred toward the Jedi.

Padme felt Bail's hand pat hers lightly. Turning her head, she saw the warm gleam in the man's dark eyes. He was there for her, offering her his support. Padme struggled to smile, as her attention returned to the central pod.

"In order to ensure the security and continuing stability, the Republic will be organized into the first Galactic Empire . . . "

Padme cringed, as Bail's fingers tightened painfully around hers. Ignoring the pain, she did the same, seeking her lifelong friend's strength and confidence.

". . . for a safer and securer society!"

This time, the majority of the gigantic rotunda's occupants rose to their feet, applauding, shouting, cheering and causing so much noise that they could almost deafen each other.

Padme slumped into her chair, her grip around Bail's hand weakening.

"So this is how liberty dies" the young woman whispered, her voice dripping with the inner pain that she felt. "To thunderous applause."

Bail could only nod, as he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"How ironic" Padme said, on a hollow tone, her eyes meeting Bail's, as she strained to make herself heard over the din. "that the sun finally decides to set over the Republic on such a fine morning!"

Her words were true, as small rays could be seen in the central hallway, entering the building through the small windows. The sun was rising over Coruscant, but the metropolis was no longer the capital of freedom and justice that it had once been.

"The irony of life can sometimes be very baffling" Bail agreed, as he watched the jubilant Senators with an expression of contempt. "A lesson that they will soon learn as well."

Padme wanted to speak again, but no words came out. Her heart hammered in her chest, as she realized that she could not move at all from her chair! The uproar of the celebration slowly faded around her, as if she were gradually losing her hearing. Then her eyesight started to blur, as the entire room was gradually coated in a thick mist, making it impossible to distinguish anyone. She couldn't even see Bail, who was sitting right next to her!

Padme wanted to scream with all of her might, but her body refused to listen to her.

_Will this nightmare ever be over? _She asked herself, with increasing despair.

She felt two hot tears fall from her eyes and pouring down her cheeks. All her life, she had been strong and had never dishonored herself by crying in public. But now, she didn't care anymore. As she saw everything that she had ever cared for be shattered in front of her, her resolve had been permanently broken.

_Is there a reason to fight? Is there a reason to die for an impossible dream?_

She received no answer, which only served to increase the flow of bitter tears on her face. It was hopeless!

The sun had set and all that lay ahead of her was a road twisting in the impenetrable Darkness of Night.

"The Night is not as deep as one might think."

The young Senator would have flinched, if she could move. Who had spoken? In the now blissfully quiet chamber, she had distinctly heard a voice.

Her eyes started darting desperately around the room, to locate the source of the voice. All that she saw was a blurry veil, hiding everything behind it.

And then her eyes found it! There, on a pod, in the exact opposite side of the room from her, she saw a tall woman.

The lady's silhouette stood out from everyone else, for her lines were sharp and clear, seemingly not affected by the veil of mist. Padme watched her in awe, for she seemed to attract her gaze like a magnet. The woman seemed very young, no more than eighteen years, but her stance spoke of undying determination and the light that shone in her eyes showed her to possess wisdom beyond her age. She was tall and slim, dressed in a long, flowing white dress. The only ornaments that decorated the simple garment were a large, golden Phoenix, with its wings outstretched, embroidered on the dress' front and a golden sash running around the middle. The lady's dark brown hair was done in an elaborate style, braided and twisted in a bun at the top of her head, resembling a crown.

Padme's eyes landed on the young woman's waist and she had to do a double take to ensure that she had not been mistaken! Surely enough, attached to the golden sash was a long, elegant silver cylinder, which she instantly recognized. A lightsaber hilt!

The young lady was a Jedi!

Padme fought with her unresponsive body, struggling to call out to the other woman, to tell her that she was in mortal danger, in a room full of sentients that hated the Order with a passion.

But she could not move an inch and, as she watched on, she had a revelation: she was the only one that could see the young Jedi lady!

Taking deep, calming breaths, Padme studied the other even closer. Her gaze stopped on the young woman's face, noting her features: the smooth, marmoreal skin, the delicate nose, the full lips and the eyes. Padme's heart almost jumped out of her chest, as she saw the color of the other's eyes: they were a deep blue, like the heart of an ocean before the storm, or the sky on a summer night on Naboo.

Anakin's eyes. Her husband's eyes.

As she continued to recognize traits from both her and her spouse in the other, said lady raised her hands with an elegant gesture, toward the entire room.

"My fellow delegates" she spoke, in a deep voice, a little too deep for a woman "I am honored to stand before you on this day, as an equal and not a Learner. For the past ten years, it has been my dream to be a member of the Senate, to do my own part, however small or insignificant it may be, to make this Galaxy a better place!"

Padme listened to her, transfixed. She had never heard a voice such as this, deep, husky, but sweet and soft as well, like smoke and honey mixed together.

"We have endured many hardships, from wars to coups and revolutions. And yet, we have managed to survive and emerge out of the storm, stronger than before. Many have said that peace is an impossible goal, an unnatural state of the Universe, but I disagree. Fighting to maintain peace is what kept the world united through the past crisis and it will continue to be our binding factor in the future. Fighting for our common goal is what made us stand strong."

_She talks like a veteran of the political arena at such a young age! _Padme though, trying to piece together the bits of the puzzle laid out in front of her by the Force.

"My father has always told me that, to reach one's goal, one must be determined and focused. One must learn to use his inner strength to do battle with the obstacles that Destiny puts in his way. And the true prize is not the treasure at the end of the tunnel, but the fact that said individual knows himself better than before and can control his power to its full extent."

Straightening her posture, the woman swept her piercing gaze through the entire rotunda, as if to assure herself that everyone was listening.

"There have been numerous times when it seemed that pain and bloodshed would control the Galaxy forever. Times when the Light died and Darkness rose, threatening to cover everything."

_It's as if she were talking about the present moment, _Padme rationalized, looking at the lady's upright, military-like posture, similar to her husband's, at an official ceremony.

"But know this!" the young woman announced, her voice thundering through the chamber, echoing off the walls. "We must never give in to Despair, even in our darkest moments! We must never give up and resign ourselves to Fate's whims! For if we let go of the will to fight, then our battle will already be lost from the outset!"

Padme could almost see the immortal current of the Force swirling around the young politician, coating her in a swirling cyclone of power. She had seen the Force do this to only one other . . .

"Wake up, Senators!" she yelled, her blue eyes burning with an inner fire. "Wake up and look around you! The night does not last forever! When the dawn comes, the shadows retreat, making way for the brightness of Morning! Night is only relative! So is the Darkness that, on occasion, surrounds the world. It never lasts forever, for, at a predetermined time, Light shines once again! The Darkness runs away, as the Sun rises once more, bringing with it hope and a new beginning!"

Raising her arms even higher, in a gesture full of significance, she pointed to the rays of light that entered into the dark building.

"Darkness is always temporary! It will never reign supreme, as long as there will be those to oppose it! The Sun shall rise again!"

Letting her hands fall limply at her sides, the woman bowed her head. Padme though that she could hear the uproar of applause and approval, dim as an echo, sounding as if it came from somewhere very far. She was sure that the sound did not come from the Present.

The lady straightened herself once more, gazing around the room. And her eyes met Padme's, on the other side. Her lips parted in shock, as sje used a hand to steady herself on the side of her pod.

Padme was not faring much better. She felt her body shake and tremble uncontrollably, for no reason.

_I can move again! _She realized with elation, flexing the fingers of her right hand to make sure. Smiling, she looked at the other woman, whose blue eyes were aglow and full of unshed tears. Her delicate hand was gripping something tied around her neck. Padme imitated her motion, only to feel a small lump under the fabric of her gown.

The japor snippet.

The precious first gift that Anakin had given her.

And the other had it as well, that much was clear. Padme felt tears cover her eyes as well, as she extended her hand, as if wishing to reach out across the chamber and touch the other.

The young Senator's cheeks were glistening because of the flow of tears. She unsuccessfully tried to wipe her eyes with one hand, as she reached with the other toward Padme.

The two women stood still, their arms outstretched, gazing at each other through Time. A myriad of emotions, from joy, to sorrow, longing and many others that cannot be described in any language passed between them, through an invisible bond.

And then the miracle was over. Padme felt her senses return to her, as the noise and ruckus impacted on her ears once more and the veil of mist was raised from her eyes. Searching desperately with her eyes, she found the pod across from her. But it was empty, with no sign of a previous occupant.

"Padme?" Bail asked gently. "Padme, what is it?"

The Senator of Naboo pulled herself out of her ruminations, to look at her friend. Bail looked very worried, as he eyed her closely.

"What happened earlier? I was talking and you were staring and not moving at all."

"Something wonderful" Padme answered, feeling the fresh tears on her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I have realized what a fool I have been" Padme said, her hand instinctively moving to her belly, where her unborn child was kicking vigorously. "Because I was contemplating defeat in a time when we must fight for what we believe!"

Bail looked stumped, as he gazed at her, furrowing his brow.

"Darkness rises around the world" Padme said, stopping herself from grunting, after a particularly strong kick. "But it will not last forever, as long as we fight it. Hope will come back to us, Bail. The Sun shall rise again! All that we have to do is fight for it!"

Bail could only nod dumbly, shocked by the transformation that his friend had undergone through the last thirty seconds. Padme's features were hard, her face set in determination and a flame blazed in her dark brown eyes. He thought that he was deluding himself, but he could swear that he had almost seen a spark of blue shine in their depths, for a second.

"If you will excuse me" the Senator bowed graciously in front of the Viceroy and exited the pod with determined steps, leaving a befuddled Bail Organa staring after her, wondering what in Sith Hell had just happened.

Motee, on the other hand, watched everything in silence, noting the way that Padme held her hands on her rounded belly. The child was definitely going to arrive soon, she thought, with a twinge of worry.

**x x x**

Vague, hazy images floated around him, softly caressing his face and retreating just as he reached out to touch them. His lips parted and he groaned in annoyance, as one of the shades prodded him with one arm.

"Wake up, Anakin" a voice from afar called out to him.

"What . . . ?" Anakin asked drowsily, his muddled brain barely reacting.

"Come on Anakin, give me a sign! Don't die on me!"

The speaker seemed to be near panic now.

Anakin groaned once more, as he attempted to pull himself from the thick mist that surrounded him. He could hear several drowned out whispers, begging him to stay where he was, that fighting wouldn't accomplish anything. Truth be told, he felt good, almost as if he were inside of a warm, protective cocoon. He had no reason at all to struggle . . .

"Don't die, do you hear me?" the first voice roared, but now it was so faint that he could barely hear it. "What has that Sith Lord done to you?"

Sith Lord . . . That name sounded suspiciously familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had heard it last.

_You're the Sith Lord that we have been searching for all these years!_

That name brought a face in his memory, but in his dazed state, he couldn't figure out to whom it belonged.

_Together, we can end this nightmare, Anakin!_

Nightmare . . . he remembered pain, both physical and emotional . . . a heavy burden, hanging like a block of permacrete on his shoulders . . .

_Where does the truth lie?_

A choice he had made . . .

_I will not become that which I am sworn to destroy!_

Palpatine was smiling down at him, but the smile swiftly turned into a snarl, as the Chancellor's skin began to rot and putrefy on his face. His eyes burned yellow, fixing Anakin with a hungry gaze.

_I need to get out of here, _Anakin thought, as the warmness around him became freezing and the Light faded into Darkness.

He started to struggle, fighting with the blackness that surrounded, to quickly discover that he was wasting his strength. He was caught in a death trap.

"Hold on, Anakin!" the voice urged him. "This is not your time to go!"

Focusing on the thick matter swirling around him, Anakin started searching for a way out. The voice was right, he could not die! His mind was almost blank and he couldn't remember what had happened to him or how he had gotten to find himself where he was now.

One thing was certain, however: he could not give up.

Plunging deep into the all-encompassing flow of the Force, Anakin projected his feelings into one single desire: to live.

To survive.

And, surely enough, he saw the dark matter part before him, as if it was afraid of the intensity of his halo, forming a tunnel.

"Anakin, hear my voice. Come to it"

The young Knight heeded the voice's advice and started to ascend through the shaft, toward a speck of light that grew more intense as he approached it.

"Good. You're almost there . . . "

When he reached the end of the tunnel, the light was so intense that it almost blinded him. Gritting his teeth, he felt his body wracked by a new dose of pain. He writheled, but he felt multiple restraints keeping him immobilized.

"Stand still or you'll rip off the IV's!"

Anakin settled down, as he felt the pain slowly fade away. His eyes were closed tightly, blocking out the intense light.

"Where am I?" he whispered hoarsely, feeling an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose.

"The Jedi Temple. The medical center, to be more precise."

All of these words were alien to him. He knew that he had heard them somewhere, but when he tried to search his memories, he felt his head throb painfully.

"Open your eyes, I want to check them" the voice ordered.

Anakin obeyed, opening one eye at a time, slowly. A room came into focus around him. The walls were a pristine white, simple, without any type of decorations. The sun's light entered through two large glass doors that seemed to lead out, to a balcony.

Finally he saw the person that had spoken to him, but he could not determine if it was a he or a she. The being had beige colored skin, with a wet appearance, two bulbous, yellow eyes, on either side of its head and a rather round-shaped skull. A fine webbing united the fingers of its hands.

"Who are you?" he asked, puzzled.

The being chuckled lightly, as it checked the IV drips connected to his arms.

"You don't remember me, Anakin? I am Bant, one of the Temple's Healers" the sentient answered, on a soft voice. It definitely was a female.

"And what are you?"

The Healer's smile only seemed to grow wider at Anakin's impudent question.

"Your head must be pretty messed up if you don't recognize a Mon Calamari when you see one."

The young Jedi frowned, trying once more to sort through his jumbled memories, but all he got for his efforts was a sharp pain and a feeling of dizziness, as the room seemed to spin around him.

"Stop trying" the Mon Calamari advised him, kindly. "Among the effects of Force Lightning, one of the most noticeable is the temporary loss of short-term memory. You'll remember everything in due time. For now I want you to relax and forget your troubles."

"Was I close to death?" Anakin asked, noting the various electronic equipments and monitoring devices around him.

"Very close" Bant answered, in a whisper. "When Obi-Wan came here, with you unconscious in his arms, everyone thought that you were a goner. I stayed for twelve hours at your side, keeping you from falling into a coma."

Anakin shivered slightly, as a feeling of freezing cold washed over him. He could still see, blurry as it was, the image of a gnarled, old man, laughing feverishly, as devastating bolts of energy came out of his fingertips, searing everything around him. That image was enough to make him shiver again.

"Now you stay right in bed" Bant warned him, as she removed his oxygen mask. "I'll go and tell Obi-Wan that you have regained consciousness. The poor man has stayed up all night, pacing the corridors and asking me to report on your condition every five minutes!"

Anakin nodded, but as she exited the room, Bant spared him one more glance, that clearly said: "Don't you dare move from that bed, or your condition will get even worse!"

With the Healer gone, the med center fell deathly silent. Anakin shifted, moving to a more comfortable position, but try as he might, he could not heed the Mon Calamari's words and relax. He kept having the deep feeling that, somehow, he was missing something very important. Although the room was very warm, he felt as though his whole body was submerged in icy water.

He saw the sun's light shine in the room through a curtain draped over the glass doors, making the rays diffused and shaded. It was causing a mosaic of lights and shades on the white walls and they seemed to dance as the curtain's fabric swayed in the morning breeze.

_Light and Darkness can exist together, in one single entity._

Someone . . . for whom he cared very much had told him that. Someone who had risked his life to help him make the right decision.

_There are other ways to trick Destiny. Ways that do not pass under the shroud of the Darkside!_

Darkside. That very name made him feel an ominous presence, like a black cloud on a clear sky, growing and expanding, until it covered everything. Another shiver passed through him, making him grip the edges of the bed with his hands. He could not sit still, try as he might!

Slowly, he stood up, fighting the drowsiness that seemed to overcome him. Gently, he pulled out the two IV drips from his wrists, trying not to imagine Bant's reaction. Swinging his legs on the left side of the bed, he gripped the wall with one hand, to steady himself. Breathing deeply, to quell his nausea, he rose, holding firmly onto the wall.

His first steps were shaky, as he tried not to lose his precarious balance and fall. Slowly but surely, his feet carried him to the opened glass doors. Pulling the curtain aside, he stepped in the balcony. The sun's light was so intense here, that he had to shield his eyes with one of his lands. Fumbling around blindly, he found the metal railing and used it to maintain his balance.

Anakin's eyes adjusted to the light, as he began to make out the elegant outlines of the Coruscanti skyscrapers. Very far ahead, coated in morning mists, he could barely see the white peaks of the Menarai Mountains, the small area on the planet's surface which was not covered with buildings. Their snow caps glittered under the morning sun's light.

The young Jedi's eyes wandered to his hands holding tightly onto the metal railing and he gasped in shock at what he saw.

He remembered having his right hand a prosthetic, as a result from the duel with Count Dooku, but now both of his arms were made of metal, instead of flesh!

His mind raced, processing this gruesome new information. Snippets of conversations and images flew in front of his eyes: an old man, dressed in ornate robes, fallen on the floor and begging for mercy, a dark-skinned man, his eyes burning with anger behind a purple blade, a man with deep eyes, like a misty blue sea, smiling kindly at him, offering his help.

The same man, slumped against a wall, hands pressed on his chest, to contain the heavy bleeding. His eyes were almost pleading, as he watched helplessly.

_If you don't trust me, have faith in the Force!_

He remembered the searing, unimaginable pain of a lightsaber severing off his left arm, from under the elbow joint.

The pair of malevolent, yellow eyes, boring into his Soul.

And the wise man once more, holding tightly onto him, as they fell through the chilly night air.

_My brother._

Obi-Wan!

The events of the past night slammed into Anakin with such a force that he had to increase the strength of his grip on the railing to keep himself from falling over the balcony's edge. Palpatine's wicked games and manipulations, Obi-Wan's determination, Mace Windu's faith all came back to him in a flood of emotion.

"Anakin?"

He didn't move when he heard his Master's voice coming from inside the med center. The curtains parted with a swishing sound and Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped through.

"I should have known that you wouldn't stay in bed" he said on an amused tone. "I don't want to be in your shoes when Bant comes back thought!"

Noting his pupil's very tense stance, Obi-Wan approached him.

"What is the matter, Anakin?"

Anakin remained silent, as his thoughts ran wildly in his head and his hands steadily increased their pressure on the railing. The feeling of coldness seemed to abate somewhat under the sunrise's warmth, but he still felt himself shiver slightly.

"What happened after I passed out?" he finally asked, surprised at his own voice's gruffness.

"Well" Obi-Wan said, "we managed to land safely on the ground. By then you were already unconscious. I urgently commed the Temple and a Knight came and took us with a speeder. You had been severely wounded by Palpatine's attacks and had to be placed under Bant's care for the night. For a few hours, we thought that we might lose you."

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan quickly. The older Jedi appeared to be very tired. His skin was very pale and he had dark circles under his eyes. In addition, Anakin could see heavy bandages wrapped around the lightsaber burn on his chest, under the tunic.

"And what about you?" he once again surprised himself by the coldness of his tone. The shock of all that had happened made everything seem almost surreal, like a mid-day dream, from which he expected to himself to wake up to a more normal world.

A world in which the Chancellor was his friend and not a blood thirsty monster.

In which everything that he had known wasn't thrown in utter chaos.

"Me? I'm fine; you don't need to worry about me. Bant said that with proper treatment, the wound will heal nicely."

"You fool" Anakin whispered, the railing starting to buckle under his grip, with an ominous sound.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked, surprised.

"You are the Galaxy's biggest fool, Obi-Wan" Anakin continued. "Meddling in affairs that are none of your business!"

The expression on the Master's face showed shock and bafflement.

"Why am I a fool, Anakin? Because I wanted to help you? Because I didn't want to see you throw your life away?"

"Because you almost _died _for it!" Anakin roared, as he managed to pull the railing out of its permacrete foundation and toss it over the edge, sending it tumbling in the dark abyss below. "Because you just don't know when to give up!"

Obi-Wan could only stare, as Anakin lost his balance and fell to his knees on the floor.

"Why do you waste your time with me, Obi-Wan?" Anakin asked, his voice nearly cracking.

The older man knelt besides his former Padawan, pacing a comforting hand on his back.

"Because my life would be meaningless without you, my brother" he answered softly, trying to comfort his younger friend. "Because you are the son that I never had and I would gladly give my life, knowing that you will be safe."

Anakin kept his eyes fixed on the ground, struggling to hide the tears that flowed down his cheeks from Obi-Wan.

"You fool" he whispered once more, but this time, the deep affection that the two men shared for each other could be heard in his tone. "One of these days you will wish that you never said that!"

"Who's more foolish?" Obi-Wan smiled, "the fool or the fool who follows him?"

Putting his hand around Anakin's shoulders, he helped the Knight rise to his feet.

"Bant isn't going to like this" he said wryly, pointing to the destroyed balcony. "Knowing her, you probably won't be able to leave the med center for a whole month!"

Anakin allowed Obi-Wan to guide him back inside and help him climb back in bed. When he managed to settle down once more, he looked at his Master, who was most certainly busy thinking of an explanation that wouldn't send Bant off the deep end.

"Out of the two of us, I am the biggest fool" Anakin said, avoiding Obi-Wan's gaze. "How could I let myself be lied to for so many years? How could I have stayed blind to the truth for so long?"

"We all make mistakes" Obi-Wan spoke, taking a seat next to Anakin. "As I said before, we are Mortals, prone to error, not Gods or droids. It is impossible for many people, no matter how attentive they may be, to see past the lies of a master manipulator such as Palpatine. You need not blame yourself, Anakin, for he has managed to trick the entire Galaxy."

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, a part of himself silently dreading the answer.

"Two hours ago" Obi-Wan spoke, slowly, as if what he was about to say had shaken him, "Palpatine has declared himself Emperor in front of the entire Senate and proclaimed the birth of the Galactic Empire."

Anakin swallowed hard, fighting his body's urge to throw up. The wonderful dream of a wise man leading the Galaxy, in peace and harmony was being torn to shreds in front of him.

"And that is not all of it" Obi-Wan continued. "In the same session of Congress, he outlawed the Jedi Order, accused its members of High Treason and condemned as all to death."

"That's not possible!" Anakin gaped, astonished. "He couldn't have done such a thing!"

"Anakin, you saw him last night, for what he truly is. Surely a being as vile as him would stop at nothing to secure its hold over the world!"

"I know" the young man said, slowly. "It's just that I didn't expect him to be like this . . . And what of the Senators? The population? Don't they support us?"

Obi-Wan sighed, slumping in his chair. The paleness of his skin and the signs of a hard night seemed to age him considerably, making him look a lot older than he really was.

"As I said before, Palpatine has them in his grasp. He has portrayed himself as a savior, a protector of the weak and innocent. As for the Jedi, we are spoken of as betrayers and power-hungry tyrants.

"So this was his plan all along" Anakin realized, to his horror. "One elaborate act to fool everyone, including myself, until he managed to ensnare the entire world in his grip."

"Exactly." Obi-Wan agreed. "But we must not lose hope! We may have lost this battle, but the war is far from over. As long as Palpatine is Emperor, no Jedi will give up the fight!"

"But what can we do?" the young Knight asked, looking deep into his teacher's eyes. "The Order has been weakened by the war and we stand no chance of survival if the entire Galaxy is united against us!"

"Here, you are wrong. Not everyone is against us. A small group of Senators has remained loyal to the ideals of the Republic and is firmly opposing Palpatine. It is their wish to form an autonomous, military and political organization, with the goal of restoring the Republic. And they seek the support of the Jedi to do so."

"So, our only chance of survival is with them?"

"It would seem so. Masters Yoda and Luminara Unduli have arrived from Kashyyyk a few hours ago and a Council session is held, to determine the Order's next course of action."

At this, Anakin looked at Obi-Wan quizzically.

"If the Council is in session, then why are you wasting your time with me?"

Obi-Wan smiled, at his friend's usual bluntness, which he had grown to miss for the past days.

"Because I wanted to see how you were recovering from your injuries and take you to attend the session. After all, you are a Council Member as well."

Anakin shook, his head, as he placed both of his arms under his head.

"My place is not on the Council, Obi-Wan. That is an honor reserved to Masters with far more experience than myself. Palpatine used my arrogance to almost turn me against the Order and I will never wish for that which I do not merit."

Obi-Wan was truly surprised by his friend's words. He looked more closely at Anakin, noting the serious set of his features and the sadness and new found wisdom that glowed in his eyes.

"Very well, if that is your wish" he said, patting Anakin on the shoulder as he rose from his seat. "I'll return in a few hours to check up on you."

Anakin nodded in agreement, as Obi-Wan left the room. Staring blankly at the high ceiling, the young Knight began a few breathing and meditation techniques to pass the time and clear his chaotic mind.

**x x x**

Palpatine stood at his desk, surveying the holographic image of a clone commander.

"C/704" he said, on his raspy voice "pass this command to all units across the Galaxy: time has come to fulfill _Order 66_."

"At once, Milord" the commander acknowledged, showing no sign of distress over the order's grim meaning.

_The extermination of every single member of the treasonous Jedi Order is to begin immediately._

"As for the Jedi Temple" he went on, not hiding his sinister smirk, "I want it destroyed by sundown. Gather your best units and see to this task personally, Commander!"

"It shall be so, Milord" the clone agreed, bowing slightly, before the connection was closed.

Palpatine leaned in his chair, his twisted smile growing even wider. At last, all that he had fought to accomplish over many decades was coming true! Soon, all of the Jedi would be extinct and there would be no one left to oppose his just rule.

Sly Moore entered the room, making the Emperor quickly snap out of his thoughts.

"Milord" she said, on her usual, flat tone, "Senator Amidala is here and she requests a meeting with you. In private."

Palpatine frowned. What could Padme Amidala hope to accomplish by addressing him again. Although, he had to agree that the woman was persistent in her goals. She would have made a most suitable Empress, if she weren't so intoxicated with the run-down values of democracy.

"Send her in" he finally decided.

_I wonder why she doesn't simply recognize the fact that she has lost the battle and keeps helping those secessionists with their Rebellion! Surely, a woman as intelligent as she must know when it is time to choose between one's life and one's values._

The large doors parted, to make room for Padme Amidala's stately form. The Senator walked with dignity and poise, her shoulders straight and her gaze firmly set on Palpatine.

"Senator Amidala" Palpatine greeted her with false cordiality. "To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from a distinguished lady such as yourself?"

Padme almost flinched when she heard the Emperor's raspy voice and saw his gnarled face up close, but she controlled herself.

"Do not play coy with me, Palpatine" she said coldly, dropping all pretenses. "I want you to abdicate from this position that you clearly do not deserve and give yourself to be judged by the Senate Courts for your crimes against democracy!"

At this, the monarch started laughing, his features twisting into a feral rictus.

"Do you honestly think that I will renounce all that I have achieved?" he asked, his eyes blazing a sickly yellow.

"Yes, I do" she answered, not breaking eyes contact. "You are a fool, Palpatine, to think that the entire Galaxy supports you! There still are those who will fight to you, who have not ceased to believe in the Republic!"

The Emperor could only look on, transfixed. His trained gaze saw an aura of will and determination flow around the young woman, as her brown eyes burned with unbridled intensity. Although she wasn't Force Sensitive, the life-energy was clearly giving her strength.

"As long as there will be those to oppose it, the Light shall never die! You believe yourself to be invincible, but you are only a foolish old man! Sometime, in the future, the Sun shall rise again and you will be cast into the Hell where you belong!"

Her anger was written clearly on her face, as she looked at the dictator with a withering stare.

Palpatine's rotten teeth showed himself, as his cracked lips twisted into a snarl, all traces of amusement vanishing from his face.

"It is you who are a fool, woman!" he growled. "And you will pay for your impudence. Seize her!"

Immediately, two Redguards who were flanking the doors entered and gripped Padme's arms, immobilizing her.

"Now you will se what happens to those who defy the ruler of the Galaxy" Palpatine sneered, as he watched the Senator struggle against the guards.

"Even if kill me, the Rebel Alliance will live on!" the young woman said fearlessly, hitting her captors hard.

"Oh, my dear" Palpatine demurred softly, caressing her cheek with a bony finger, making her pull back in revulsion, "who says that I want to kill you. For you are much more useful to me alive. Or rather, your unborn baby is!"

His fingers trailed down to Padme's belly, feeling the embryo inside and its distinctive Force signature.

"Indeed, the Chosen One's child will be very powerful" he smirked wickedly. "It will be a pleasure to train it in the Dark Arts."

You leave my child alone!" Padme screamed, managing to punch one of the guards in the face, making him fall backward. The other guard pulled out his electrostaff and jabbed in into Padme's back. The woman cried out in pain, before she slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Palpatine watched her crumpled form, before he turned to the guards.

"Take her to my citadel. Hide her and make sure that no one follows you. I have a few matters to finish here."

"As you command, Milord" the Redguards bowed. Gripping Padme by the arms, they hauled the unconscious woman out the doors and out of Palpatine's sight.

The Emperor watched them leave, as his mind added the new implications to his master plan. Still, a part of himself felt slightly disgruntled by what he had seen in the woman's eyes: for a second, before she had been stunned, as she was fighting to get free and telling him to leave her baby alone, he had seen, somewhere in the depths of her eyes, a very quick blaze of color. For just a moment, her eyes had shined dark blue.

**x x x**

Anakin's eyes snapped open, as an intense jolt of pain pulled him out of his meditation. It took only a moment for him to understand that the pain had not been his own. Calming his frantic heart, he extended his senses into the Force, searching for the source of the disturbance.

When he reached his destination, his breath caught in his throat. He had felt Padme's pain! Projecting his mind along the link that they shared, he sought out the familiar presence at the other end.

Only to be greeted with emptiness.

_Oh, Force, no!_

There were only two explanations for an empty link at one end of a Force bond: the sentient was unconscious.

Or dead.

_Please no!_

Frantic, Anakin scrambled out of bed. Still exhausted from the previous night's duel, he tangled his legs in the sheet, tripped and fell on the hard floor, grazing his cheek.

"What in the name of the Force happened here?" an angry voice cried out, nearly drowning the ringing that assailed his ears. "Anakin, what have you done?"

The Knight extracted himself from the mass of tangled sheets, only to come face to face with a very irritated Bant.

"Anakin, I want an explanation this instant! What possessed you to wreck the balcony?"

"I'm sorry Master Bant" he apologized quickly "I just remembered what happened last night and I was distraught."

"And that gives you an excuse to devastate the temple? Anakin, the Council is right, you need to learn to control your emotions better!"

"I apologize" he said, hoping to somehow appease the Healer. Frankly, he couldn't care less about what he had done. All he wanted to do was dash madly out of the med center and start looking for his wife.

Before it was too late.

He didn't even get to finish his train of thought, as another wave of pain assaulted him, this time much stronger.

Screaming in agony, he collapsed, hitting the marble floor hard. The room around him had started spinning once more and somewhere in the background, he could faintly hear Bant desperately call out his name.

But none of that had any importance now, when the agony wracked his mind, making him desperately want for it to end. He recognized the source of the pain: a very strong conscience was clashing against his shields, trying to get access to his mind.

A very dark presence, as he knew no other. Palpatine.

When the pain reached unbearable level and he felt as though he were being slowly pulled apart, he lowered his shields, allowing the dark conscience to enter his own.

_I am glad that you know when to submit to my will, Anakin, _Palpatine's voice resonated in his mind. _I am far too strong to be bested by your weak Jedi powers._

_What have you done with Padme? _Anakin sent back, furiously. He was sure that only the Emperor would have the audacity to harm his wife.

_You truly wound me, Anakin. I haven't done anything to her. She is here with me on her own free will, as my guest._

_Liar! I don't believe you!_

_Come now, Anakin, do you really believe that I would lie to you?_

_Yes! For the past thirteen years it is the only thing that you ever did! I ask again: what have you done with Padme?_

_She is in my possession, if you wish to know. Do not worry, she is unharmed, but that may soon chance, depending on your cooperation._

_You monster!_

_Mane calling won't get you anywhere, Anakin, _Palpatine said, with a satisfied chuckle. _If you wish to find your wife alive, you will have to look for her. That is all I will tell you._

Anakin felt the despair within himself rise another notch as Palpatine's presence began to retreat from his thoughts.

_Palpatine, wait! Where are you? Where can I find her?_

_Use your instincts, boy. Isn't life ironic? The mighty Chosen One, revered by the Jedi, who bested Count Dooku and the Separatists on the battlefield can't even find his wife? How pathetic. _

The Emperor pulled himself out of the young Jedi's mind, but not before he left an ominous warning:

_Ten hours is your deadline._

**Author's Note:** Pleasedrop me a review and tell me what you think! It will give an idea if the direction in which I am taking the story is a good one.


	15. Iron Fist in a Velvet Glove

Here's the next chapter, everyone!

**Lordwindwalker: **No, Palpatine will not make Padme his slave, as Jabba did, in Leia's case. This is, after all, a T rated fic.

**Stephanie C: **Glad you liked what I did with the last chapter. As for Padme's vision, all I can say right now is that I will stray quite far from cannon with this story. It is an AU, after all.

**Trinity Day: **Thank you! I'll do my best to keep the storyline interesting.

**BGTom: **Anakin's perspective has been so twisted by Palpatine's manipulations, that he cannot know when the Emperor is dishonest or when he tells the truth. This blindness of his will cause him great problems in the future, as you will see.

**Elessar-Lover: **Ha-ha! No need for threats, I'm already writing at top speed :) The fact that I have to wrestle over the computer with my annoying little brother and have to work at a travel agency six hours a day doesn't do much to speed up the process. :)

And before I completely forget, I've started work on a _Harry Potter _fic, called _Drowning in Darkness, _after I finished reading _The Half-Blood Prince. _Tell me what you think about it!

One of my friends told me that the chapters are getting way too long. At 15.000+ characters, this one was no exception. It was such a behemoth, that I had to split it in two parts. Here is the first one. As for the second, I'll post it in a few day's time.

Anakin is torn between the mortal peril in which his wife currently finds herself and the fact that his Jedi brethren need his help now more than ever.

**Chapter XV - Iron Fist in a Velvet Glove**

"Anakin? Anakin, can you hear me?"

Bant's soft voice entered his ears, but, for some reason, his brain refused to register it. All that he could feel and hear was the pounding pain in his skull and Palpatine's warning, repeated over and over by his feverish mind:

_Ten hours is your dead limit._

"Anakin, for Sith's sake, get up!"

Nodding faintly, the Knight allowed the Mon Calamari to help him get6 back in bed.

"I can't believe you disobeyed my request" Bant huffed, annoyed, as she placed the IV needles back in his wrists. "I clearly told you to stay in bed! But, then again, when have you been the one to follow rules?"

Bant's tone had a humorous tint to it, but Anakin was not paying any attention to her, as his thoughts raced with the speed of light. Where could Palpatine have taken her? Why was he unable to pinpoint her exact location via the Force? What would he do to her after the ten hours were up?

_Don't even think about that! _He sternly ordered his own mind. The mere thought that Padme could lose her life at the Emperor's hands was enough to make him want to devastate the entire medical center. Fortunately for Bant, though, he barely had enough strength to get up.

"Now, you will stay out in this bed until I say so" the Healer ordered, sternly. "You already have enough problems without adding overexertion as well!"

But Anakin's mind was already made up. He needed to get out of the Temple.

As fast as possible.

"I need to leave" he said, tugging on the IV's and fumbling around for his belt and boots.

"Leave?" Bant repeated, incredulously, nearly dropping the syringe in her hand. "What for?"

"Someone I know is in grave danger." Anakin explained quickly, pulling on his boots. "And if I don't find her, she'll be killed!"

"Whoa, slow down!" Bant spoke, placing a webbed hand on his chest, to push him back down. "You're in no state to go around playing the hero! If you haven't figured it out already, surviving a battle with a Sith Lord is a very serious matter and it leaves any Jedi with scars!"

"I do not care!" Anakin went on stubbornly, swatting away Bant's hand. "I'm leaving, whether you like it or not!"

Bant gazed in Anakin's deep blue eyes, in which a dark tempest was raging. The determination and sheer force of will that she saw there left her speechless, for a few moments.

"You are a fool, Anakin" she said, resignedly, as she took her hand from his chest, allowing him to rise.

"I am" he agreed somberly, raising from the bed and clipping his lightsaber in its holster. "But it has kept me alive through the war, hasn't it?"

"Indeed it has" Bant agreed, placing the unneeded medical equipment in a cabinet. "Just what do you intend to do?"

"Search, follow my intuition. There is no other alternative."

"And what do you want me to tell Obi-Wan?" Bant asked, keeping her firm gaze upon Anakin, who was pulling two black gloves over his metal arms.

"Tell him" he hesitated slightly, "tell him that my wife and unborn child's lives are in mortal danger."

The Order would learn soon enough of his transgressions, he reasoned, so what purpose did it have to lie again?

If this information was surprising or shocking to Bant, she showed no outwardly sign. Her demeanor remained as smooth and unperturbed as before.

"Very well" she agreed, taking everything in stride. "There is no chance to convince you that a team of Masters would be much more successful in finding them, is there?"

"No" the young Knight shook his head. "He is expecting me and no other. Besides, I do not wish more members of the Order to risk their lives for my sake."

Bant could only nod, in acceptance.

"You have a Healer's heart inside of you, Anakin Skywalker" she pointed out, as the young man draped his cloak over his shoulders. "You would defend others to the very end, with no thought about yourself."

"Much good that has done me" Anakin said bitterly, as he gazed at his gloved fists, tightening them with enough power to bend steel.

"It has done you much good" Bant contradicted, her bulbous eyes not breaking contact with his. "The Force has given you very precious gifts, Chosen One. Do not squander them needlessly."

Anakin only bowed his head slightly, in respect to the Mon Calamari Master and swiftly left the Med Center, without one look back.

"But" Bant whispered, when she found herself alone once more, "I fear that all of this will finally end in tears."

She would not live to see just how prophetic her words would prove to be.

**x x x**

"The reception is so poor! I can barely make out anything!"

Huffing in frustration, Padawan Kazuya Ataro took the cumbersome headphones off her ears, placing them on the console's smooth surface.

"Any luck?" she asked, turning to her friend, Jor Teroh, a greed-skinned Rodian Padawan.

"Nope" he answered, in heavily accented Basic. "Too much static."

Sighing, the girl, tapped a few keys on the console, in annoyance.

"I don't understand, why did Master Kolar ask us to monitor this frequency? If you ask me, it's all just a waste of time!"

"I wouldn't say that if I were you" Jor cautiously advised her. "Master Kolar has his orders directly from Master Yoda. Whatever they think will be transmitted through this frequency must be important."

"But it is foolish" Kazuya said, annoyed. "Everyone is acting as if the Temple was under siege!"

"Maybe it will be" Jor spoke quietly, so that Kazuya almost didn't hear him.

"_Will _be?" the girl repeated, astonished. "Jor, no enemy has ever set foot in the Jedi Temple since the end of the Sith Wars, a millennium ago! Why would things change now?"

"Haven't you heard what's been happening lately?" the usually calm Rodian boy lost his temper. "Palpatine has proclaimed himself Emperor and wants the entire Order destroyed. And he's a Sith Lord to boot!"

"A Sith Lord?" Kazuya asked. This had truly managed to surprise her. "The one that trained Count Dooku and the other apprentice?"

"The very same" Jor confirmed grimly. "Master Kenobi gave a full report to the Council last night, when he returned with Anakin Skywalker. Apparently, they had just faced him and survived to tell the tale."

Kazuya could only stay silent, as she thought about the dark developments in the last few hours. She could remember her years as a Youngling, in one of the Bear Clans, when the elderly and wise Master Yoda had taught her about the nature of the Force and she had taken her first tentative steps into a much larger world. Back then, no Darkness lurked over the horizon. She was an innocent and naïve child, her heart beading rapidly with joy at the prospect of someday being full-fledged Jedi Knight, giving aid to those who needed it and healing the Galaxy's wounds.

Now, however, she saw how narrow her views had been.

As the Republic, which had stood unchallenged for eons, crumbled under its own weight, pain, anguish and chaos erupted in the minds of the young Padawans, who had been used, ever since birth, with the idea that the Light was invincible.

That the Jedi were invincible.

And now, Kazuya began to realize, with downing horror, that the truth was quite another.

"We won't fall, will we, Jor?" she asked, in such a small whisper that the other Padawan had to strain his ears in order to hear her. "The Order will not fall to just one Sith Lord, will it?"

"I don't know" the young Rodian answered, sincerely. "Nothing seems to live forever these days, does it?"

"No" Kazuya agreed. Although, benefiting from fifteen years of intensive training, she did not show anything outside, in the inside, Jor's words had been a death sentence. A portrayal of the Order's ultimate fate. And an end to her childhood dreams of courage, valor and idealism.

Suddenly, a sharp been from her console made the girl leap, startled out of her seat.

"What is it?" Jor examined his own console, but no warning flashed.

"It's receiving a transmission" Kazuya informed him, as she placed the headset over her ears once more.

At first, all that she could hear was static. Turning a few dials, she tried to triangulate the frequency and get a better signal. Steadily, the static died down and she could vaguely make out two voices. She could not clearly discern what they were saying, but, as she listened, her blood seemed to freeze in her veins.

_C/704 . . . . . . command . . . . . . . Order 66 . . . . . . . . _

Through the unnerving noise of static, the girl involuntarily shivered, as she heard the hollow, broken voice.

_. . . . . . Milord . . . . . . . _

That one word made her clutch the sides of the console with her hands, as all of her senses strained to catch every possible bit of the transmission.

_. . . . . . . Temple . . . . . . _

Kazuya's lips were pressed in a firm line. The subject of the discussion was clearly, the Order.

_. . . . . . . sundown . . . . . . ._

A time reference, the Padawan's well trained mind realized instinctively. A time limit for the unknown command.

_. . . . . . . destroy . . . . . . . ._

Although she pressed the headphones firmly on her ears, Kazuya could not hear anything else than static. Two sides warred inside of her: the quick, analytical mind, that had pieced the garbled transmission together and the heart, which desperately cried out that this couldn't be happening, that the Jedi Order couldn't be in real danger.

But, as much as she wished to deny it, the truth lay in front of her, irrevocable and unalterable.

"Kaz, what's the matter?" Jor inquired, his reptilian features frowning as he saw the color steadily fade from his friend's cheeks.

"We're doomed" she stated simply, with a glazed look in her eyes. "By the sound of it, the entire Clone Army will be marching on our doorstep by sunset."

"You're sure?" Jor scowled, skeptically.

"I am" Kazuya spoke, without any hesitation. "I need to find the Council members and tell them! You stay here!"

Jor had opened his mouth to speak, but Kazuya had already risen from her chair and was racing down the corridor before he could utter one single sound.

The young Padawan ran down the hallways as if a Sith Lord was chasing her. Gripping the railing of a spiral stairway, she slid down upon it, landing on the floor below with a rather clumsy forward flip.

Unexpectedly, the jump stopped, when she landed not on the hard, marble floor, but on something soft.

And thrashing.

Alarmed, Kazuya looked down and saw that she was sitting on what, at first, resembled a mound of dark, writhing robes.

"Get off me!" a muffled voice growled and the girl quickly sprang to her feet, with a horrified expression, as she realized that she had just landed on a fellow Jedi. The tall form of a young man pulled himself up from the floor, flapping his cloak to get rid of the dust.

"Master Skywalker!" Kazuya gasped, as she recognized the man's dark blonde hair and stormy eyes.

"Watch were you're going, Padawan!" he rebuked her sternly.

"I . . . I'm very sorry . . . . I didn't mean to . . . to run into you!" Kazuya stammered, almost losing her ability to speak. "I was in a hurry . . . "

"As am I" Anakin cut her off, and proceeded to resume his frantic pace to toward the hangar bay, when the girl's fingers curled themselves around his left wrist.

"Master Skywalker, wait! I need to tell you something!"

"I don't have time for your babbling, child" Anakin said, wanting to wrench his hand from Kazuya's grasp. "Find someone else to bother!"

"Please, Master Skywalker" the girl insisted. "I need to speak with a Council member and you are the only one I could find!"

Anakin was about to tell her that he no longer considered himself a member of the Jedi Council, but the Padawan continued her desperate tirade:

"The Temple is in danger! It will be destroyed before sundown!"

These words make Anakin's full and undivided attention converge on the teenager who was now gazing in his eyes with a pleading look. Now that he knew that the Order might be in danger, he could not ignore her request.

"How do you know this?" he asked, quietly.

"I intercepted a comm transmission from Palpatine's office on one of the Temple's decoding consoles." she explained, breathlessly.

At the mention of Palpatine's name, Anakin's eyes hardened to matted steel, as his mechanical fingers gripped Kazuya's hand, causing her to cringe in pain.

"Let's go" he ordered. "I need to hear this for myself!"

Nodding, Kazuya led the way, as the two Jedi climbed up the spiral stairs. At the top, Jor awaited, with an anxious expression on his face.

Kazuya passed by him, without a single word. She pointed toward her console and Anakin sat down, placed the headphones over his ears and activated the Replay switch. The two Padawans watched him listed, in complete silence. Gradually, his features darkened, until, at the transmission's end, his face looked like a mask of anger and hate.

"That . . . that _hadakh!" _Anakin spoke in a hoarse whisper, muttering several explicit Huttesse curses under his breath, sending Palpatine and his entire ancestry to Hell.

"The Council needs to be warned" Jor said, slowly, fearing that Anakin's already stretched-thin nerves would snap. "We need to plan out a defense."

Anakin's face rose from the console, as he regarded the two fearful Padawans. His features softened instantly, as he realized that he was the cause of their fear. Shuddering on the inside, he remembered that the Tusken children that had seen his rage first-hand had had similar expressions on their faces.

"Listen, you two" he said, on a much gentler tone, to put the children at ease, "I need you to rally all of the Masters that are in the Temple at this moment."

"Where should we direct them, sir?" Kazuya asked, instantly snapping to attention.

Frowning, Anakin tapped on a few keys on the console, bringing up a small holographic three-dimensional display of the Temple. His gloved finger searched the display, until it stopped over a large room, located several levels underground.

"The main storage depot" he said. "It's large enough to accommodate everyone."

"Yes, Master Skywalker" Kazuya acknowledged. Gripping a reluctant Jor's arm, she quickly left the room.

Anakin remained alone, his dark eyes intently studying the Temple display, a mind trained by the three years of warfare instinctively searching for the weaker spots in the structure. He knew firsthand the unerring precision on the Clone troopers and it very clear that they would all be wiped out if they didn't prepare an almost unbreakable defensive system.

His fist rammed into the chair's armrest, as he realized, with growing despair, that he could not possibly leave the Temple now, when his fellow Knights would need all the assistance they could possibly get, in order to survive the night.

Once again, he was faced with the impossible choice between his wife and the Order.

Between his love and his duty.

"Great way to start the day!" he chuckled bitterly to himself, as his fingers worked frantically on the console, bringing up the schematics of the Temple's existent defenses.

**x x x**

Padme moaned softly as she opened her eyes. Her vision was very blurry and she couldn't see far ahead of her.

_Where am I? _She thought to herself, as the disastrous attempt to confront Palpatine came back to her. _The child!_

She wanted to place her hands on her belly, to see that everything was alright, but, to her horror, she realized that both of her arms were bound to the surface on which she was resting. Struggling uselessly against the restraints, she heard a dry cackle from the darkness that seemed to surround her on all sides.

"Wake already, Senator?"

Palpatine's tone was almost gleeful and it made Padme feel a powerful impulse to hit him. Unfortunately, the monarch stood far enough that he was completely out of her reach.

"I trust the accommodations are to your liking, Milady?" he asked, on a derisive tone. "I'm very sorry that I could not prepare something more suitable on such a short notice!"

"Enough with the acting, Palpatine!" Padme spoke, her voice losing none of its commanding authority, in spite of the situation in which she found herself. "Why have you brought me here?"

"To the point, as usual" he chuckled, as he extended a withered hand, placing it on Padme's stomach, who winced in disgust. "There are two reasons, my dear. The first one is this precious child of yours. By what I can feel, it is close to come into this world and I wish to be here, greeting it."

"You . . . you want to corrupt my baby!" Padme spoke, through clenched teeth, as she saw the greedy look in Palpatine's eyes.

"Indeed I do, my dear. The Chosen One's child will be very strong in the Force, probably equaling its Father. What better candidate for my next Apprentice?"

"Over my dead body!" Padme growled, her deep brown eyes staring at Palpatine, her anger and revulsion toward him increasing tenfold.

"That will come soon enough, Milady" he said, mockingly, stroking her cheek with one bony finger. "The second reason is to lure your husband into a trap. If I will play my cards right" he boasted, his yellow eyes gleaming, I may get two Apprentices instead of one."

"My Ani will never succumb to the Darkside!" the young Senator spat, tugging to get as far away from the Emperor as possible.

"That remains to be seen!" Palpatine contradicting her, his twisted smile growing wider. Placing both of his hands on the sides of her head, he let small bolts of lightning coarse through her frame. Padme's body shook violently, her back arching off the surface on which it was seated. Her teeth were gritted, as she struggled with the overwhelming urge to scream her lungs out.

"This is only a taste of my power, darling" he whispered, his lips very near to her left ear. "Say that you will surrender your child to me and I will spare your life."

"N-never!" she choked out, quivering uncontrollably.

"After this Milady" Palpatine said, his pleasant tone abandoned, "you will beg me to end it!"

He started to increase the lightning's power steadily, as Padme's screams echoed off the rough stone walls. He could feel her agony, her intense pain and it made him almost euphoric. Pain was the most wonderful aphrodisiac for him, as he basked in its destructive waves.

Padme felt the searing dark energies pass through her, burning every cell in her body. She screamed, for it remained the only thing that she could do. Inside herself, she prayed feverishly, repeating the words over and over, like a sacred litany:

_Oh, Force, please let my child live!_

The burning sensation had spread in her entire body, as her head impacted viciously with the stone surface. She could barely keep hold of consciousness, as wave after wave of spasms shook her.

_I have failed, _she thought, as her vision dimmed and the pain began to recede. _I cannot protect even my own child._

She could fell herself fall through layers and layers of darkness, no end coming in sight.

_Forgive me!_

She did not know if her child could hear her, as her descent came to a halt. To escape the maddening torture, her conscience had sunken down in the depths of her very being, away from any kind of physical pain. Only once in her life had she been so desperate that she had had to retreat inside herself: thirteen years ago, when it seemed that Naboo was doomed and no one wanted to do anything. Back then, it had been a idealistic, blue-eyed boy who had managed to unknowingly pull her back from the brink.

But now, she was truly alone. There was no blue-eyed boy to jump to her rescue. Now, her Fate was sealed.

All around her, the Darkness swirled, but she was not afraid: this Darkness was hiding her, protecting her Spirit from the Emperor's wrath.

Suddenly, she felt it: a shift in the space around her. The velvety Darkness parted like a curtain, to make way for an almost blinding Light. Padme cringed, in surprise. What was happening? When last she had sought refuge in the depths of her being, she had seen no light. Yet now, the shadows disappeared, as she found herself surrounded by a shroud of pearly-white brightness. An unexpected warmth passed over her, making her relax instantly and lose any trace of fear that she might have had. She instantly knew that she was in no danger.

The brightness flowed over Padme's weary spirit, like a soothing balm. She could almost feel another conscience in the all-encompassing Light, which was murmuring words of comfort to her. Shedding all of her apprehension, she allowed herself to gently drift in the ocean of brightness.

Palpatine frowned, as he removed his hands from Padme's face. The woman had obviously fallen unconscious, for she didn't move at all. The monarch sent another few slight jolts through her, in the hope of rousing her, but it didn't seem to work.

The Emperor extended his senses, probing the pregnant woman's prone form for any indication as to her present state, but he was bewildered when he didn't feel anything.

Placing his fingers on her forehead, he projected his mind's power inside of her, searching. Just when he thought that he had managed to feel a brief glimpse of her presence, a white-hot pain stabbed his chest and he found himself viciously flung in the air and impacting with the stone floor, on the other side of the room.

Growling, Palpatine clambered to his feet, untangling his long black robes from around him. His anger was blazing now, but his curiosity was, if possible, even stronger. What on Coruscant had happened? One moment he was seizing the infuriating woman's spirit, to pull it up to the surface from the depths in which it had sunken, to be blasted away in the next.

Crazy as it sounded, even to himself, for a brief second, he thought that he had managed to feel another presence inside the Senator's body.

A very powerful presence.

Cautiously, he approached the stone slab. On it, Padme's frame lay still, gently swaying in its binders. Palpatine flinched slightly, as he saw her lips quiver and her move slightly from side to side. She was regaining her consciousness, but he would stay alert all the same. His long life experience told him not to let down his guard only when he was sure that no danger was present.

Padme's eyes fluttered open and he could not suppress a little gasp. They were not the warm brown that he had gotten so used to, but a cold, dark blue, staring in silence at him. If he weren't so thoroughly stunned, he surely would have seen the uncanny resemblance with Anakin Skywalker's own eyes.

"Palpatine" the strange Padme said, quietly. Her voice was much deeper and rougher than he had ever heard it before.

"Who are you?" he asked, keeping all of his senses in full alert. Whoever said that a savvy Sith Lord, ruling the Galaxy for over thirteen years couldn't be surprised by anything had been sorely mistaken.

"If you are that all-knowing" the pseudo-Padme spoke mockingly, "surely you can figure it out?"

Palpatine stared at the woman in front of him, his mind working in overdrive. He felt a blazing Force-aura surround her. But how could that be possible, when Padme Amidala wasn't Force-Sensitive. And once more, he was not sensing the Naboo Senator's familiar presence, but another, far more powerful.

"You seem to be mistaking me for my mother" he strange woman spoke once more, her eerie eyes not leaving Palpatine's for a second.

_Of course! _The Emperor shuddered, as he managed to finally put the facts together. This woman was not Padme, but her unborn child! The daughter's spirit was speaking _through _her mother! He remembered once reading about a few very rare similar cases. All of them had involved children with a very high Force potential.

"What do you wish from me, young one?" he asked, regaining his superior confidence once more.

"Do not call me young!" the woman snarled, her features twisting in anger. "I have traveled through this Universe far longer than you have, _Emperor!" _The sarcasm with which the last word had been spoken was undeniable. "Just because you wear the mantle of Sith Lord, you have foolish notion that you are invincible!"

Palpatine sneered, shaking his head disdainfully.

"If I wasn't the most powerful entity in this world, how did I manage to catch the entire Galaxy in my grasp?" he asked, a small smirk on his blackened lips.

"Do not give yourself too much credit!" the woman cut him off. "You may think that the entire world bows down to you, but there will always be those to oppose you!"

The woman tilted her head backwards, looking at Palpatine with a malicious twinkle in her eye.

"The more you tighten your grip, _Your Highness, _the more star-systems will slip through your grip! It's the same with all tyrants!"

Palpatine's anger seemed to grow another notch, as the woman smiled infuriatingly at him. The sense of superiority that she projected outward made him wish with all of his being that he could wipe the smirk off her face. But apprehension held him back once more. He knew very few facts about the strange apparition in front of him, but one thing didn't give him peace: what was her alignment? Was she Dark? Or did she serve the Light?"

"I serve no one" the woman said, as if she had read his thoughts. "Only a fool like yourself can think that the Force has an alignment!"

Palpatine's scowl deepened, in frustration.

"What do you mean?"

The woman gave a bark of laughter, but it seemed hollow and unnatural. "I mean, you pompous old prick, that the Force is neutral! It does not take sides! It simply exists! Ultimately, it is up to the individual to decide how he uses it, for noble or evil purposes. Your whole concept of Light and Dark Force is just foolishness, though, I must say, I didn't expect anything else from a narrow-minded simpleton such as yourself!"

Perhaps if he had a weaker body, the severe increase in blood pressure could have given Palpatine a coronary. As it was, it took all of his willpower to restrain himself from lashing out at the possessed woman. He had to repeat to himself over and over that he needed Padme Amidala alive.

"You fear Death, don't you?" the woman suddenly asked, out of the blue, her eerie eyes making the monarch feel very uncomfortable. "For all of your so-called wisdom, you fail to realize that there are much more horrible things in the world than death."

"I hardly think that you are in a position to tell me what to do" Palpatine spoke, in an icy tone, that would have most surely silenced anyone else.

"I am only telling you that, as long as you fear mortality" the woman said, her eyes boring into the Emperor's "you will fall."

Palpatine wanted to deliver a scathing reply, but Padme closed her eyes, her head falling forward, as she lost consciousness once more. The spirit retreated to the depths from were it had risen. Hesitatingly, the monarch placed his hand again on the woman's forehead, as he felt the subtle pulsing of the Force under his fingertips. Indeed, the child would be very powerful. One of the Universe's oldest Spirits walking among the Living once again.

This, he thought, made him even more determined to harness the girl's strength for himself and damned be all who stood in his way!

**x x x**

News about the impending attack had spread through the Temple like wildfire. Across the corridors, Padawans and Knights discussed the future in, worried, hushed tones. An feeling of anticipation, unease and fear of the unknown permeated the air.

The Order now knew that Damocles' sword hung over them.

And it was poised to strike.

Inside the storage depot, several floor underground, Obi-Wan Kenobi surveyed the room's transformation into impromptu command center. Large piles of crates were being hauled out and in their place appeared communication consoles, displays of the Temple and a map of the entire area surrounding the structure, as seen from an orbital satellite.

Although he appeared as calm and serene as always, the Jedi Master's mind was very far from tranquil, mirroring the chaotic environment around him. His thoughts were split between multiple causes of worry: the Republic's inevitable end, the beginning of Palpatine's dictatorship, the Senate's new hate against the Order.

But none of them were as troubling as the contemplations over his former pupil. He couldn't help but feel worry grip his heart whenever he thought about Anakin: the previous night had stretched he young man, both physically and emotionally, to his limits, to such an extent that it was truly a wonder that he hadn't snapped.

Obi-Wan had to suppress a shudder at the Dark thought. Thank the Maker that he had managed to keep a hold of his emotions at the crucial moment. The Jedi Master didn't even want to contemplate the state of things had Anakin fallen.

_He's fine, _he tried to appease his worried psyche, _the worst is over. _

But a part of him vehemently disagreed with this. No, things were very far from over: the storm was merely gathering its strength, before it landed atop the world with savage might.

And another aspect kept plaguing Obi-Wan's thoughts, ignoring all of his half-hearted attempts to swat it away. The dream/prophecy/vision that he had seen on his way from Utapau. As much as he tried to figure it out, it kept eluding his understatement. The tribal leader's dark-skinned, blue-eyed face insinuated itself in his mind, now and then, as if wishing to remember him of Fate's whims. He had not forgotten the wise man's words, for, at the time, they had shocked him:

_In order to save your former learner, you will have to Fall!_

The words sounded as chilling as ever, Obi-Wan reflected, gloomily. As much as he struggled to understand their hidden meaning, it remained as elusive as ever. Just what did the wise man mean? The confrontation with Palpatine had passed and yet, he hadn't been forced to make any type of choice at all. The peculiar prophecy wasn't showing any sign that it might come true.

Unless, the thought, his mind working in its usual logical, no-nonsense way, one vital part was missing from the equation: perhaps Anakin wasn't as safe from the Darkside's influence as he had initially presumed. Maybe his former Padawan had more challenges in store for him. Again, the strange wise man's words seemed to hold true:

_It will not happen at a predetermined time. It may happen now, or it may happen fifty years from now. _

He was right, of course. The future was always in motion and most attempts at discovering its secrets had been doomed to failure from the start.

Obi-Wan's eyes turned to the door, through which Master Yoda had entered, accompanied by a tall, bipedal humanoid, who was introduced earlier to him as Chewbacca the Wookie, one of General Tarfful's most capable men.

Although 'men',though Obi-Wan wryly, might be a somewhat subjective term for the Wookies.

His ruminations turned somber once more, as he watched Yoda listen attentively, as Master Shaak Ti spoke through a holocomm transmission with a Knight that was keeping vigil atop the Temple and who reported no sighting of the alleged attack force yet.

The by now thoroughly confused Master wished to discuss the vision's problem with Yoda. He was sure that the small Master could pull him out of his seemingly endless confusion, as the search for answers kept him running in circles. But that also presented a number of problems: he would have to explain every small detail of the last day to Yoda and the rest of the assembled Council. At the debriefing after the return from the Senate dome, Obi-Wan had told a very simplified story, keeping out Anakin's secret marriage, his own dark premonitions that had initially prompted him to return to the capital as fast as possible and the reason for which Anakin needed Palpatine alive.

He had never, in his entire life, kept something hidden from the rest of the Order. As long as he had known himself, he had been respectable Jedi, holding the Order's oaths above all else, shunning falsehood and trickery.

And now he was not telling a vital truth to his peers, to the people that had essentially been his extended family. The blatant truth almost made him chuckle. He, who had been considered the embodiment of all of the Order's virtues, was nothing more than a normal man, ready to do anything in order to protect his brother.

He realized that, for Anakin, he could even lie through his teeth to his fellow Jedi, disregarding all of his guilty conscience's arguments.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi-General and renowned Negotiator, was ready to throw away all that he had worked for, all of the oaths that he had sworn, for Anakin Skywalker. Now that he had the truth in front of him, it was not as shocking as it had been supposed to be. A part of him had always known that the bond that he had forged with his pupil would, someday, transcend anything that the Order had seen.

Maybe, his feverish mind theorized, this was the path that would lead him into Darkness in the first place. Maybe his blind love for his Padawan would cause him to Fall, in the end. But, he realized, with a dose of dry amusement, that the prospect didn't seem to worry him as much. It had always been this way with Anakin: the boy had a powerful charm that drew others to him like a magnet. It was impossible not to love or care for him, once you got to know him well.

His meditations were cut short, when the doors slid open once more. All eyes in the room turned around, to see a tall Knight, with blonde hair and piercing dark-blue eyes, leaning slightly on the doorframe. His robes were torn and shredded, a testimony to the fierce battle that he had waged the previous night. As he walked across the room, everyone could see that he had a slight limp and that his cheeks were unusually pale. Obviously, he was far from recovered from his wounds.

Behind him entered two young Padawans, looking around the room in awe and a little fear. It was clear that they had never seen such a large gathering of the Order's most powerful members.

"Anakin" Obi-Wan called out, "why aren't you resting?"

"I should be asking you the same question" the young Knight pointed out, gazing at his Master's heavily-bandaged chest. "This is not a time for rest and idleness."

The Masters around the room couldn't help but smile a little at Anakin's already customary bluntness. When he had something to say, he said it plain and simple, ignoring what others called 'principles of protocol and etiquette'.

"Glad I am that here you are, Knight Skywalker" Yoda spoke on his quiet tones. "But this, a meeting for Masters and Council members is" he added, pointing his cane at the two Padawans behind Anakin.

"They will stay" Anakin said immediately, not letting Yoda say anything else. Several Masters raised their eyebrows at this direct defiance.

"Padawans Ataro and Teroh are the ones who intercepted Palpatine's message" he explained, "so I believe that they deserve a place here. After all, they have proved to possess keen and sharp minds, haven't they?"

Kazuya and Jor looked both flattered and embarrassed by Anakin's praise, all the while keeping their mouths firmly shut.

"Very well" conceded Yoda, pointing his cane toward a pair of chairs. "Stay, they can."

The two teenagers appeared to be relieved, as they took each took a seat, lying very low in their seats, as though they wanted to be invisible.

"Now, then" Anakin swept his gaze through the entire room, "no doubt that the Padawans have informed everyone here about the impending attack."

A chorus of murmurs surrounded the room, some in approval and some in annoyance that Anakin was taking leadership of the meeting.

"Good" he nodded, not appearing to hear the disapproving whispers. "It all falls down to one element: the size of the attack force. I have no doubt that the Temple's defenses are quite capable of dealing with a small to medium offensive. The problem arises when the attack force exceeds this value."

"May I ask" said Agen Kolar, raising his hand, "why exactly are you establishing our strategy, Knight Skywalker? Someone with much more experience would me much better, don't you agree?"

Anakin's scowl deepened, as he regarded Kolar. It was obvious that most of the command center's occupants agreed with the Jedi Master.

"Funny" said Anakin coldly, "but I was under the impression that the Order needs all the help that it can get, Master."

His tone was slightly derisive and it did nothing to stop the whispers of discontent. On the contrary, it amplified them.

"Hold on, everyone" Obi-Wan said, his soft-spoken manner instantly calming those closest to him. "I have fought together with Anakin in the war for over three years and I can say that he is an accomplished strategist. I, for one, trust his decisions."

The din seemed to increase in intensity once more, as Anakin smiled faintly in Obi-Wan's direction, thanking him for the vote of confidence.

Suddenly, a loud roar drowned out all other voices, as several Masters jumped up in fright. The source of the noise was the Wookie Chewbacca, whose black eyes were looking at Kolar with blazing intensity.

Although he wasn't very well versed in Shyriiwook, Anakin had understood what the Wookie was saying:

"I have heard of Anakin Skywalker. He is said to be one of the most talented military leaders of the Republic. Why do you criticize him when he wants to help? Shut up and mind your own business, Jedi!"

All of the Masters that could understand Shyriiwook looked thoroughly scandalized at Chewbacca's rude words. As for Obi-Wan, he appeared to be highly amused, but was hiding it rather well.

Before the tension and malcontent could escalate any further, Yoda raised his green, clawed hand. That managed to effectively reduce everyone to silence.

"Agree with Chewbacca, I do" Yoda chuckled, the apparent humor of the situation not lost on him. "Military tactics my strong point, it is not. Agree I do that young Skywalker should plan the defense."

"Thank you, Master Yoda" Anakin said, with a small bow toward the diminutive Master. Even though several Masters still seemed ready to object, they weren't eager to question Yoda's decision.

Waving a gloved hand in the air, Anakin activated a large holomap of the entire Temple, which bathed the dark room in a pale blue glow.

"Now then" he continued, pointing to the holographic structure, "the Temple's frame has a few key weak points. Points that can be destroyed with a single ground-air missile." His finger pointed to the base of each spire. "A precise hit in these areas will send the whole tower crashing down."

"Is there no way to protect ourselves against missiles?" asked Master Luminara Unduli.

"There is" answered Anakin, "but it will be difficult to set up. The missiles employed by the Fleet each have computer-based guiding system, which calculates the distance and exact position of the target. If said target has an electromagnetic field around it, it will be almost impossible to be hit. He magnetic charged would wreck havoc with the delicate control systems, sending the missiles off course."

"Is there a way to raise such a shield around the Temple?" inquired Shaak Ti.

"It theory, yes" Anakin said.. "It is possible that a Cruiser's hyperdrive could generate sufficient power. If harnessed properly, it could create a magnetic field large enough to cover the entire Temple. But, mind you, it would be effective only against computer circuits: the clones would be able to pass through unscathed."

"Too bad we won't be attacked by an army of droids" Kazuya said, but the somber atmosphere made her attempt at humor fall flat.

"And just what do you have in mind for the clones?"

"If they will come in large numbers, then it will be a battle that we can never win" he spoke, grimly. "Our best chance at survival is this: the Temple residents will have to split up in two: The Masters and Knights will face off the clones, holding them back as long as they will be able to: the Padawans and Younglings will be rounded up and taken out of the Temple and off planet with the cargo ships in the hangar bay."

"So that the Order may have chance at survival" nodded Yoda, deep in thought. "Much risk, this strategy presents. Many Jedi will die during the siege."

"Sacrifices will be necessary" Anakin said, keeping his voice neutral. "If the Order is to live on, many of us must be ready to lay down our own lives."

It was apparent by the stoic expressions on the Master's faces, that all of them were ready to die for the Order.

Obi-Wan leaned against the wall, as he watched his former Padawan explain what diversionary tactics might work best against the clones. The young man's features were hard and sharp, as he had rarely seen them, appearing to be chiseled in stone. The holomap's light illuminated his face from below, giving it a strange, almost ghostly appearance. When he raised both of his hands, to make a point, many Jedi gasped, as they saw that both of his arms were covered in black leather gloves. Another injury that would follow him for the rest of his life.

Watching him explain and the entire command center listen, with rapt attention, Obi-Wan finally came to understand just what made his brother special: he had an inner strength that didn't seem to leave him, even in the most difficult moments. He was a very passionate man, putting his heart and soul into all that he did, not believing in half-measure.

And he was a natural-born leader, drawing those around to him, like butterflies to a flame. He was very ambitious, never settling with little. This was, by far, his greatest strength and his fatal flaw. He could be a kind leader, but also, an intransigent tyrant. Obi-Wan had seen it all too clear during the war: Anakin was capable of acts of boundless kindness toward his allies, but, at the same time, the Master had seen him against the Separatists: a ruthless enemy, one that you did not want on your tail.

Looking at him, as he spoke, Obi-Wan had no difficulty of envisioning the Galaxy down at his feet. After all, the world did love him very much: very few where those that had not heard of Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with no Fear. Again his beguiling charm and charisma showed themselves.

Anakin's explanations and Obi-Wan's thoughts were suddenly cut short. when a disheveled Knight barged in through the doors.

"They're coming!" he panted, heavily. "They're still pretty far away, but it won't be long now!"

The entire room sprung to its feet. Anakin smiled darkly.

"So it begins" he spoke, in a whisper. The, raising his voice: "Master Unduli, take care of the evacuation of the Younglings! Master Ti, organize the Knights in the exterior perimeter!"

"What can we do, Master Skywalker?" Kazuya asked, overcoming her shyness.

"You two will come with me and help me find a functioning hyperdrive. You too, Master."

"I was thinking that you were about to leave me out of the fun" Obi-Wan said, smiling.

"I would never do that" Anakin shot back, with a look of mock-offense. "Let's go!"

At his order, the entire room emptied, as the various Masters headed toward their designated posts. As for Obi-Wan and Anakin, they walked side by side, followed by the two Padawans, feeling as if they were in the middle of the Clone Wars once again.

**x x x **

The inhabitants of Coruscant had never seen such a display of military force since the Separatists had invaded the planet, several weeks prior. Large gunships traversed the skyline, in a long, seemingly endless convoy. They could see military craft of all kinds, from light skiffs to heavily-armored missile launchers. No one dared venture out of their homes, ever since they heard that the Emperor had placed Coruscant under martial law and had scheduled the Jedi Order for termination. Although many people sympathized with the Knights, everyone knew that they would be killed without hesitation, should they interfere.

Seated on a bench in one of the gunships, C/704, commander-in-chief of the assault force watched the Coruscant skyline pass by. His mind was analyzing the order that he had been asked to fulfill by the Emperor.

_The extermination of every single member of the treasonous Jedi Order is to begin immediately. _

Even though he would not admit it to anyone, for fear of being stigmatized as a traitor, those words made a chill run up and down his spine. Understandably, he cared for the Order, for he had fought side by side with his members during the war.

But a directive from the Emperor could not be ignored.

Leaning more comfortably against the bulkhead, his thoughts strayed to the only Jedi that he had truly called a _friend. _The young man's face seemed to haunt him, as he did hs best not to think of him. He would kill, if that's what the Emperor asked of him. He would maim and slaughter.

But he was not sure that he would be able to pull the trigger of _that _Jedi showed up in front of him.

_For both our sakes, Skywalker, _he thought, _I hope that you are not in the Temple. _

_I hope that you are somewhere at the ends of the Galaxy, where you will escape this purge. _

_Where you will be safe. _


	16. Appearance of the Silver Phoenix

Sorry about the huge gap between updates, but I have bee out of town for most of the time, on vacation at my grandparents, in the mountains. The trip was a welcome change, seeing as I couldn't last much longer in the city, with the heat, high pollution levels and all.

**BGTom: **You said it! The tension between the two warring sides escalates, until the spark of the battle will be ignited.

**Dawn369: **I'm glad that you like the storyline. You're right, there will be much sadness, and the first part will end on a bitter note.

**Stephanie C: **Lol! Very right about Palpatine:) He just wouldn't be same without his trademark evilness! As for the Jedi-Emperor's identity, I'm not going to say anything at the moment. It's fun to see all of the speculations:)

**Elessar-Lover: **Will do! Will do!

**Trinity Day: **I'm very sorry for the spelling mistakes, but since I finished writing at 4 AM in the morning, spell-checking was nearly an impossible task!. :D

Haunting echoes of the past combine with hints of the future to come, as dark clouds begin to gather over the Jedi Order.

**Chapter XVI – Appearance of the Silver Phoenix**

_I wonder if the things I did were just to be different,  
To spare myself of the constant shame of my existence.  
And I would surely redeem myself in my desperation,  
Here and now, I'll express my situation._

_There's nothing ever wrong, but nothing's ever right  
Such a cruel contradiction.  
I know I've crossed the line: it's not easy to define  
I'm born to indecision._

_There's always something new  
Some path I'm supposed to choose  
With no particular rhyme or reason . . . _

**Shinedown – Burning Bright**

"_Red alert has been initiated! All personnel are to evacuate the vessel immediately! This is not an exercise!"_

_The droid's monotone voice repeated its warning over and over, not knowing that very few were still alive in The Praetor's corridors to hear it. The gigantic Cruiser was floating dead in space, its few emergency systems left operational barely receiving enough power to function. All around the ship, swarms of Separatist fighters and bombers were pelting it with an endless barrage of laserfire. With the shields down, the vessel was a helpless target, as a well-placed bomb ignited several explosions on its belly. _

_Another Cruiser came in view, its massive bulk having been hidden up to the point by the radiance of the system's pulsar. The ship's turbolasers flared to life, tearing through the tight-knit web of enemy crafts that were surrounding the other vessel. _

"_Hostiles on the run" an Ensign reported, hunched over his console. "Enemy task Force has left the System. I repeat, the enemy Task Force has jumped into hyperspace. We've routed them!"_

_A small chorus of cheers and applause broke out on The Invictus' command deck, as every soldier savored the feeling of victory after a space battle that had lasted for nearly three days._

_One person, however, did not appear to be overjoyed by the victory. Leaning against the main view pane, General Obi-Wan Kenobi watched The Praetor slowly spin out of control. His frowning face was bathed in a reddish glow, from the flames that were spreading through the dying ship. _

"_Obi-Wan, what's the matter?" inquired clone Commander Cody, as usual the first to notice the subtle change in his friend's demeanor. "You don't seem very happy about the victory."_

"_Happy?" Obi-Wan intoned somberly, as he kept his misty eyes on the other vessel. "No, I am not, because this is not a victory, Cody."_

"_What do you mean?" the Commander asked, perplexed. "And will you stop talking in your damned Jedi gibberish? I can barely understand anything you say!"_

_Obi-Wan's features relaxed somewhat, as he heard his friend's annoyed tone. _

"_Translated for simpletons" Obi-Wan continued, smiling slightly, as Cody rolled his eyes behind the helmet, "I mean that we have lost too much to be able to say that we have actually gained something from this battle."_

_He jerked his chin in the other ship's direction, for emphasis. _

"_How many crewmembers died aboard The Praetor? How much will it take to commission and build another Alpha-Class Cruiser? How will the Sixth Army fare without its flagship?" _

"_I see your point" Cody agreed, as he watched the small stream of shuttles containing survivors dock with the gargantuan vessel._

"_Anakin must be on one of those" Obi-Wan pointed toward the shuttles. "I just hope that he hasn't strained himself too much during the battle. If his wounds will reopen, he'll be stuck in the med center for over half a year."_

"_Knowing Lieutenant Skywalker, I think that he has thoroughly ignored your advice."_

"_I believe so as well" Obi-Wan sighed, with a mix of fondness and exasperation. "That headstrong Padawan of mine . . . "_

_The two men watched the evacuation in silence for a few minutes, when a haggard-looking Saesse Tiin practically burst trough the blast doors and onto the bridge. The Jedi Master's robes were torn in many places and he was covered in grime and dried blood from head to toe. Both Obi-Wan and Cody whipped around instantly when they saw him.._

"_What is it, Master Tiin?" Obi-Wan asked, concerned, as he felt waves of urgency hit him from the usually calm Jedi._

"_General Kenobi" Saesse coughed, clearing the soot from his lungs, "Padawan Skywalker is still on the Praetor!"_

"_What?"_

_Obi-Wan felt as though he had been punched in the solar plexus. His panic-stricken eyes turned to the dying Cruiser, spinning slowly in space, an inferno in the making._

"_He's still on that thing?"_

"_I tried reasoning with him" Saesse said, gruffly, "but you know him. He practically ignored me!"_

"_What's he doing in there?" Cody asked, not bothering to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "Is he nuts or something?"_

"_No. He told me that there were crewmembers still alive and that he wouldn't leave the ship without them."_

"_Typical Anakin" Obi-Wan murmured, his features bathed in a crimson light, from The Praetor's flames. "We have to go back for him."_

"_No can do, General" Cody shook his head, sadly. "That thing's going to blow and pretty soon. If we don't jump out of the system in the next thirty minutes, not even The Invictus' shields will keep us from being turned into space dust."_

_With this grim statement hanging in the air between them, Obi-Wan and Cody returned their gazes to the doomed ship, as Master Tiin was carried to the Med center by two officers._

**x x x**

_In his bacta tank, a lone clone commando floated gently, held in place by a few restraints across his chest. An oxygen mask had been placed over his face, allowing him to breathe. He could faintly hear, through the gel-like substance, the repeated explosions that rocked the ship back and forth, as well as the alarms blaring on._

_But there wasn't a single thing that he could do. He had fought in some of the war's most gruesome battles, had survived through countless assaults and sieges, earning him quite a reputation among his brothers and the residents of the galaxy alike. _

_And yet he was destined to die in his bacta tank, recovering from wounds obtained during the earlier dogfights with the droid starfighters._

"_Whatever the Maker wishes" the commando thought wryly, as another explosion sounded, almost toppling his tank over. _

_Not much time was left. _

_The trooper suddenly jerked slightly in his restraints. For a moment, he had thought that he had seen movement outside of the tank. Looking closely, he could barely distinguish a shadowy, blurred silhouette, through the dense bacta. _

_Someone else was still alive! _

_The commando moved a little bit, pulling at his restraints, as he felt the upper lid of the tank being slowly twisted open. When it finally came off, he closed his eyes, against the bright light, squirming farther from it. _

"_Stop struggling, trooper" he heard a muffled voice. "I'm here to help you!"_

_The commando felt two hands grope through the gel, tugging at the harness and pulling in open in a few rather clumsy attempts. Next, his arms were seized in an iron grip and he let himself be slowly pulled out of the tank. _

_When his face broke through the bacta, he quickly tore off his mask, breathing in huge gulps of air and shaking his head, to get rid of the gel in his hair._

"_Stop that!" the other man ordered, annoyed. The commander immediately froze to the spot, opening his eyes to finally see his would-be-rescuer clearly._

_In front of him stood a tall, somewhat lanky young man, with short cropped blonde hair, a distinctive Padawan braid and a pair of startlingly blue eyes. Upon closer inspection, the commando picked up the small, telltale signs that showed the other to be heavily wounded. His right hand, a golden prosthetic, was held firmly around his middle and his back was slightly curved. _

_A spinal injury, the clone's expert eye noted. _

"_Are you going to stand there all day, trooper" the young man spoke impatiently, "or are you going to get out of there?"_

_Without hesitation, trained from birth to obey a superior, the commando clambered out of the tank, gripping a nearby bed post to avoid collapsing._

_The young Jedi began to hand the soldier parts of his armor and to help him put them on. _

"_The Praetor is doomed" the young man answered the other's unspoken question. "And we'll be space dust if we don't get out of here."_

_Shoving the trooper's helmet on, the young man took the other's arm, dragging him out of med lab._

"_Just what happened?" the commando asked. "I was out when the attack occurred."_

"_The flagship walked right into a Separatist trap" the Jedi answered, flatly._

"_How many are dead?" the clone inquired, keeping his tone neutral, but at the same time dreading the answer. _

"_Half of the crew" the Jedi spoke, in a low voice. "50.000 men and women."_

_The commando nearly cringed as he heard the number. So many friends and compatriots gone forever from the world. An entire Cruiser destroyed. _

"_The Commander must have been blind to walk directly into a trap" the clone said, keeping the more virulent words to himself. _

"_Blind, yes" the young man sighed, stumbling up a flight of stairs. "A fool with a head full of bantha dung."_

_Watching him intently, the clone observed a quick flash of pain in the Jedi's deep blue eyes, before it was hidden under a steel mask._

"_Why haven't you left the vessel with the others?"_

"_I couldn't" the Jedi answered, supporting the commando, who, gripped by a sudden dizziness spell, could barely walk straight. "Not as long as there still was someone alive here."_

_Suddenly, the ship lurched to the left, sending both men crashing into a wall. _

"_Ahh" the commando gritted his teeth, as a wave of pain surged up his body. "Forgot about the damned broken ribs!"_

_The Jedi didn't say anything, merely bared the pain stoically, as he struggled to get back up, clawing at the wall with his prosthetic arm._

"_Get up" he ordered harshly, once he was back on his feet. _

"_Sorry, Jedi" the commando shook his head. "I'll only slow you down. Get yourself out of here while you still can."_

_The Padawan said nothing, merely narrowed his eyes. _

"_You're coming with me, trooper."_

_Laughing hoarsely, the commando shook his head once more. _

"_You Jedi, always with your hero attitudes!" he snorted." There ain't any fire left in me, kid. Just leave me be!"_

_The Jedi's only response to this was to kneel next to the trooper, as a new blast rocked the floor underneath them. His features seemed much rougher and sharper in the crimson glow of the emergency lights, making the clone remember the kaminoan folk tales about tormented demons, in the fires beneath the Ocean._

"_I am the Commander" he spoke quietly._

_The man's head snapped around, as he stared directly into the other's stormy eyes. "What?"_

"_I am responsible for all of this" the young man went on, gesturing around him. To his horror, the clone saw that the entire corridor was littered with corpses. _

_The two gazed at each other for a few minutes. Then, with lightning-fast reflexes, honed by years of intensive training, the commando launched a punch toward the young Jedi, hitting him squarely in the face and making him fall against the wall. _

_The clone staggered to his feet, panting hard and watching the other man. The education received on Kamino by young clones taught them early on to not be dominated by their emotions while on duty. But the clones were humans as well, regardless of the way in which they had been born. _

_And in those moments, the trooper was much too angry for all those dead to care about the rules. _

"_No more fight left in you, eh?" the Padawan asked, raising himself from the floor and wiping the blood that flowed down his face. "Looks like all you needed was a little incentive."_

_Before he could decipher the meaning of those words, the commando felt himself being hauled up and dropped onto the Jedi's back, who grunted at the extra weight. _

"_You . . . "he stuttered, shocked, as he understood that his outburst had just been used against him. _

"_Stop struggling" the young man ordered, twisting the trooper's wrists painfully. "I'm trying to help you here!"_

_The commando calmed himself, allowing the Jedi to carry him through the corridors, as alarms continued to blare above them. _

_When the two managed to reach the hangar, the Jedi made a beeline for the only remaining shuttle. Bounding up the ramp, he tossed the nearly unconscious clone into one of the seats, firmly securing the restraints, before plopping down into the pilot seat himself. _

"_Core temperature has reached critical level" the droid-like voice announced through the speakers. "The main engines will disintegrate in 7 minutes 23 seconds."_

"_Kid" the clone moaned, as he shifted slightly in his seat, looking intently at the Jedi, who was frantically pushing buttons and pulling levers, "be honest. Do we have a chance?"_

"_A small one" he answered tightly, staring at the display screen. "Oh, kreth!"_

_The commando moved over to the right, looking at the screen. "What is it?"_

"_The aft stabilizers are fried. This thing will be harder to control than a wild eopie."_

_Closing his eyes, the soldier whispered a prayer to the Maker, as the shuttle shuddered and groaned. For a few, short seconds, there was absolute quiet. Then, with a mighty roar, the engines came to life. Gripping the steering rods, the Padawan slowly inched the craft out of the hangar. The two tensed, as the ship passed through the magnetic barrier, into the void of space. _

"_We're through" the Jedi sighed. "If only this thing would behave itself!"_

_True to his predictions, the ship was very hard to control, as it kept veering off course and tilting dangerously to the left. _

"_So, are you really the Commander?" the clone asked, breaking the dead silence between them. _

"_Yes" the Jedi whispered._

_Such a simple answer, the trooper thought. Clear, concise, to the point. But behind it, lay something much deeper. He could hear it plainly in the other man's tone. The darkest of emotions coated his voice. _

_Anger. _

_Fury._

_Hate. _

_Shame. _

_Self-loathing. _

_And something far stronger than all of these combined. _

_Despair. _

_Looking into the Jedi's eyes once more, the trooper saw his soul, for the briefest of moments, as the mask slipped off once more. He had witnessed that expression plenty of times, in the eyes of those who had seen massacres. That empty, broken, vacant expression. _

_Those haunted eyes. _

"_It's alright, kid" the commando spoke, softly, placing a hand on the other's shoulder. "Everyone makes mistakes."_

_The Jedi violently slapped away the hand, glaring at the trooper, with a dark fire burning in his eyes. _

"_I don't need your pity!" he hissed, venomously. Turning back, he stared back to the dying Cruiser. "I could have saved them. All of them. But I wasn't strong enough. I'm never strong enough!"_

_The raw pain shining in the Padawan's eyes and the almost- fanaticism lining his voice made the clone shudder slightly. Something about this young man was different, he thought, as his instincts clearly saw the hidden danger. The black dragon lurking in the depths. _

_Just as his mind was trying to sort out through his strange rescuer's personality, The Praetor was engulfed in a halo of light. All stood still, for one terrible second, before, with a deafening boom, the Cruiser blew. The small shuttle was thrown around, like a boat in the storm, as the shockwave hit it. _

"_We're losing control!" the clone yelled over the din, as the craft spun wildly out of control._

"_Tell me something that I don't know!" the Jedi yelled back, fighting to get back some semblance of control. _

_Through the front panel, The Invictus' huge bulk was approaching at an alarming speed. _

_Pulling back on the throttle, the Jedi grit his teeth._

"_If we don't do something about this speed, we'll crash into the ship!" the clone called out, as his hands automatically flew toward the controls, aiding the other in his efforts. Both men looked ahead, at the hangar bay that was approaching much too fast. _

**x x x**

"_Sir" an agitated Ensign's voice spoke, "she's going to blow!"_

_Obi-Wan didn't wait even one second. _

"_Activate port shields!" _

_In the next moments, The Praetor exploded, in a blinding flash of light. The shockwave slammed into the Cruiser full-force, followed by a hurricane of fragments and debris. The mighty ship shook for a few seconds, before settling down._

"_Status report" Obi-Wan asked, picking himself up from the chair in which he had fallen. _

"_Shields up at 46 percent, sir. All vital systems are undamaged."_

_The Jedi Master sighed, turning his gaze to the dark area, in which a mighty vessel had stood. So many dead . . . _

_Anakin!_

_His heart skipped a beat, as he extended his senses, to feel his Padawan's Force-signature. _

"_Anakin, please be alive!"_

_Surely enough, he was drawn to the boy's blazing aura, like a moth to the flame. With a dawning horror, he realized that the young man was aboard a small freight shuttle, which was heading toward the hangar bay at an insane speed. _

"_Cody, come with me!" Obi-Wan ordered sharply, turning on his heel and running toward the turbolifts. _

"_What the . . . ? the Commander asked, perplexed, but, when he saw the determination and urgency in the other's strides, swallowed his curiosity and followed._

_The two men stepped in the turbolift and Obi-Wan pressed the control switch, sending it into a straight plummet, toward the hangar bay. _

_When it stopped, they quickly ran outside, into the cast expanse of the hangar bay. _

"_It's coming in too fast" Cody said, pointing toward the approaching shuttle. "If it passes through the magnetic shield at that speed, there's no telling what will happen. The passengers won't survive either."_

"_We will see" Obi-Wan answered, closing his eyes and concentrating on slowing down the craft with the Force. The two could only look on, as the shuttle drew closer and closer. _

"_Now more than ever, I hope that your Force mumbo-jumbo actually works" Cody joked, in an attempt to relax the tense atmosphere. _

_With a grating shriek, the shuttle tore through the magnetic field and skidded on the metal floor, spinning wildly, before coming at a stop, violently crashing into a wall. _

"_Now do you believe in the Force?" Obi-Wan asked, running toward the broken, contorted wreck._

"_Nah" Cody shot back. "That was just a fluke. It'll take a lot more than some party tricks to convince this skeptic."_

_Obi-Wan smiled slightly, as he reached the ship. Probing through the Force, he felt, the waning auras of two people. _

"_They're alive" he told Cody, "but we need a way to get them out of there."_

_Without hesitation, the Commander pulled out a comlink from his belt. _

"_This is Commander Cody. We need two full med and engineering teams down in bay 23 , immediately."_

"_Yes, sir" was the quick answer. _

**x x x**

_Inside the shuttle, the Padawan and the clone lay hunched over the controls, pinned in place by various bits of the craft. _

"_Pretty rough landing, kid. What do you do for an encore?" the soldier asked, as a large metal shard dug deeper into his shoulder._

"_Oh, shut up" came the Jedi's faint reply, who was being crushed in place by a fallen piece of scaffolding._

_The two stood silent for a few moments, listening intently to the noises coming from outside, as their rescuers were struggling to cut an access way into the smashed craft._

"_So, kid, I never got your name?" the clone asked, in an attempt to distract both of them from the pain. "Who are you?"_

_The Jedi smiled faintly, placing his blood-covered face on the broken control panel._

"_Jedi Padawan Anakin Skywalker" he answered, "and Lieutenant of the Republic Fleet."_

"_Glad to meet you" the soldier spoke, shaking the other's hand. "I am C/704, of the Black Theta Commando Team."_

_Suddenly, a loud blast was heard, as the dark cockpit was flooded with light. _

"_The cavalry is here" C/704 laughed, as several troopers entered and started to pull him and Anakin from under the debris. _

_As he was being settled on a stretcher, the clone turned to the Padawan, who was refusing any kind of medical help. _

"_Jedi Skywalker" he called out, to get the other's attention, "do not punish yourself for what wasn't your fault."_

_Anakin's blue eyes turned toward him, as a trooper took advantage of the situation, forcing the young Jedi to lie down._

"_You risked everything to rescue me" he continued raptly, as an oxygen mask was shoved over his face. "But you can't save everyone."_

_The last thing that he saw before the darkness of sleep came was Anakin's face, full of pain and remorse. _

"Sir, are you alright?"

C/704 flinched slightly in his seat, as the soldier's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"I'm fine, trooper" he answered. "What is our ETA?"

"One hour and counting, sir" the gunship's pilot answered. "I'll announce you when the Jedi Temple will be in sight."

"You do that, trooper" answered C/704, the Commander of the task force in charge with the Jedi Temple's destruction, gripping his blaster rifle tighter. To the rest of the clones, he appeared as relaxed as one can be before a siege. But inside him, a terrible war was being waged, away from anyone's perceptions.

_I will do what I have been ordered to, _he thought, as his finger curled reflexively around the trigger, _even if it means taking the life of my rescuer!_

**x x x**

"I very much doubt that it will work this way" Anakin spoke, not bothering to hide his annoyance, as Jor violently kicked the malfunctioning hyperdrive a second time.

"This rusty thing isn't good for anything" the frustrated Padawan said, plopping down on the hangar floor.

"It is old" Anakin agreed, pulling a fourth power cable and coupling it in, "but it still has some kick left in it."

"I don't understand" Kazuya said, looking contritely at her grease-stained tunic. "Why don't we just dismantle one of the new ships and take a better one?"

"Too much power" Obi-Wan explained. "One small mishap and the resulting explosion would blow us all in the skies."

"Everyone, be quiet" a frustrated Anakin ordered, bending low upon a stack of blueprints. "I just don't understand why it isn't working. What am I doing wrong?"

"Are all of the power lines plugged in?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"Yes."

"And have you switched the polarity?"

For a brief second, an incredulous look appeared over Anakin's face, after which he slapped his forehead, hard.

"I'm such a nerf-herder" he groaned, twisting two switches. "How in the Force did you know what was the problem?"

At this, Obi-Wan could only smile.

"My young Padawan, I have lost track of the times I've watched you fiddle with hyperdrives. I picked up quite a lot from your technical babble."

"Nice" Anakin grumbled, seeing as Jor and Kazuya were doing their best not to burst out laughing.

"Let's see if it works" Obi-Wan said, pulling out an electronic compass. Surely enough, the needle was spinning madly, in all directions.

"The whole structure of the Temple has been magnetized" Anakin explained to the two bewildered Padawans. For emphasis, he picked up a metal bolt and threw it. The bolt attached itself to a wall and stayed there.

"Now all we have to worry about is evacuating the Younglings" Obi-Wan said. "And changing your clothes" he added, pointing toward Anakin's shredded and oil-stained robes.

"I don't have time to . . ." Anakin started to protest, but Obi-Wan swiftly gripped his elbow, hauling him out of the hangar.

"Those things can't even be called robes" Obi-Wan reprimanded him, as they entered their common living space.

"I'm not exactly a ten year-old anymore, Obi-Wan" Anakin murmured darkly, entered his bedroom. The bed and floor could barely be seen, as they were buried under a pile of prints, sheets, drawings, sketches, various tools and dismantled droid parts. Obi-Wan had often called Anakin's room an "environmental hazard zone" and had constantly pestered his former pupil to be tidier.

The young Jedi smiled slightly, imagining what a shocked expression would appear on his wife's face if she ever found out about the state of his quarters. The happiness, however, died very suddenly, as he remembered the apparent inescapable situation in which he currently found himself: Padme was being held prisoner by a demented, power-hungry tyrant, while he was stuck in the Jedi Temple, with the duty to guard it against the clone army. A quick glance at the wall chrono told him that four hours of the allotted time had already passed.

With an angry hiss, Anakin leaned against the wall. The war that had been silently waged inside his soul for the past hours was threatening to tear him apart. Ever fiber of his being was screaming at him to run off and rescue his beloved from the Emperor's clutches, but his conscience was keeping him grounded, constantly reminding him of his duty to help ensure the Jedi Order's survival.

Rousing himself from his dark reflections, he made his choice. He would stay at the Temple long enough to successfully oversee the evacuation of the Younglings, after which he could leave in search for his wife. The Knights and Masters would be more than capable to face the clone task force, especially with the new magnetic shield which protected the Temple from missiles and aerial attacks.

Satisfied with his decision and knowing all too well that time was at the essence, Anakin pulled a few drawers open, throwing out various robes, that, to his growing annoyance, were almost in the same sorry state as his current attire.

Obi-Wan had been definitely right in nagging him about the importance of washing one's laundry.

Suddenly, his fingers touched a fine material, very different from the usual roughness of a Jedi robe. Tugging on the material, he pulled out a black, high collared tunic, with a simple and straight cut, resembling a military uniform. It appeared to be made of dark velvet, with a large bird, its wings outstretched, weaved on the front, with a silver thread.

By all appearances, the bird resembled a phoenix, bathed in a silvery sheen.

Anakin frowned, shifting through his mind, trying to remember just how the unusual garment had made its way in his closet. Hazy memories, almost five years old floated to the surface: the Middle Rim planet of Grizmalt: a mission assigned to him and Obi-Wan, regarding the Royal Family's protection from a violent group of revolutionaries. The whole thing had ended after Obi-Wan had managed to get himself captured, whilst trying to negotiate with the leader of the revolution, leaving the continuation of the negotiations on the shoulders of a very frustrated Padawan Anakin Skywalker.

Believing that negotiations would be futile, Anakin had, instead, opted to do a very foolish task: rescues his Master from the rebel citadel. Needless to say, he ended up almost being captured, but not after seeing the revolutionaries firsthand and talking to a few of them.

_The Magistrate frowned, shifting in his seat, causing his ornate robes to crinkle loudly. _

"_You threaten to murder the entire Royal Family and now you wish to negotiate peace with the sovereign Government of Grizmalt? Never, sir! This is outrageous!"_

_The leader of the revolution remained as calm as ever, although on the inside, he feared for the worst._

"_If you do not desire to continue the talks, High Magistrate Rom'alren" he spoke on a heavily accented voice, "I will be forced to harm the Jedi that is in my possession."_

_The entire room fell silent at those words, as the nobles of the Crown Council looked at one another. Even the Magistrate appeared to be struck speechless, because apart from a few inarticulate angry mumblings, no other sound left his lips. _

_Suddenly, the whole room flinched, as the sound of someone clearing his throat resonated off the walls. Many pairs of eyes turned to stare at Jedi Padawan Anakin Skywalker, who had followed the proceedings quietly, from his seat, with an expression that clearly stated the fact that he wished to find himself in any other part of the Galaxy than where he was. _

"_You cannot use Master Obi-Wan as a bargain chip" he spoke loudly, so that everyone would hear him._

"_And why is that?" the leader asked, mildly surprised. _

"_Because you people are not killers" he stated confidently, rising from his chair. _

"_Padawan Skywalker" the Magistrate rebuked him harshly, "do you mind taking a seat and letting the experts handle these negotiations?"_

"_Yes, I do" the Padawan answered boldly, somewhat pleased to see the Magistrate's rotund face turn a shade of garish pink. Walking across the marble floor with quick, precise strides, he stopped when he found himself directly facing the rebel leader. _

"_As I've said before" he continued, "you people are not the murderers that the Magistrate's lies have made you to be. I know, because I have seen it with my own eyes."_

"_Skywalker" Rom'alren angrily ordered, "be silent or you will be thrown out!"_

"_No" Anakin spoke fiercely, his right thumb resting upon the hilt of his lightsaber, "**you **should be the one to shut the hell up! I've just about had it with your schemes and political games!"_

_Seeing the Padawan's hand so close to the weapon, or witnessing the blue flame of anger burning in his eyes seemed to make Rom'alren blanche stark white and lose his voice completely. _

"_Much better" Anakin agreed, releasing the grip on his weapon._

_Turning around, so that he was facing the King's throne directly, he spoke:_

"_Your Majesty, I have never been the one to speak with fancy words. Diplomacy may suit a politician, but it is not my strong point. I was born on Tatooine, to a very humble existence, away from the bright centers of the Galaxy and, so, politics has never been my cut of tea. Allow me, however, to say this: to know a man's heart is far better than knowing his mind. I have seen the rebels with my own eyes and I can say, without a doubt, that they are not the terrorists that the High Magistrate has been leading you to believe."_

_Looking at the rebel leader, Anakin saw the growing amazement on the man's features. He had probably never expected that someone would have the audacity to speak in his defense. _

"_The rebels fight for a very just cause, Your Highness. They wish that their ancestral land, which had been stolen by the Warlords nearly a thousand years ago, be returned to them. They only wish for the freedom to live their lives, as they should have always done. Is that a reason to call them murderers and condemn them for high treason?"_

_Every being was now listening raptly at the Padawan's clear and concise words. _

"_My Master has entrusted me with the position of Negotiator" he went on, "and the last thing I wish to do is disappoint him."_

_Looking the King in the eye, Anakin swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in his throat and took his chance. _

"_Your Majesty, if the revolutionaries and their families are allowed to settle on the plains between the Timur and Hoeh rivers, they will end the revolt once and for all. Do you find the conditions to be acceptable?"_

_The King turned his gaze on the rebel leader._

"_Is this true, Fad'alir? Will you cease all of your attacks and revolts if the Government of Grizmalt will grant you the space that you need?"_

"_Yes, Your Majesty" the revolutionary answered. _

"_The so it shall be" the King intoned. _

_For a moment or two, no one said a thing. The, half of the room erupted in wild cheers, while the other half, mostly composed of the rich noblemen, with High Magistrate Rom'alren amongst them, stood silent and brooding, for they had lost the most from the victory of the revolutionaries: many of their estates were located between the Timur and the Hoeh rivers. _

_Anakin, for his part, stood silent, in the middle of the chaos, very aware that everyone was talking about him and wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him whole._

The whole ordeal had ended quite nicely, as Obi-Wan was released from captivity and the King threw a large banquet, insisting that the "Jedi Heroes" would be the guests of honor, in spite of the two men's vehement protests.

At the banquet, as a sign of gratitude the King presented the two Jedi with gifts, despite the fact that they had told him numerous times that members of the Order rarely indulged in luxury. Obi-Wan had been given a signet ring, with the Royal House of Grizmalt's glyph, and Anakin received what appeared to be folded set of black robes.

"_They are quite old and have a special history" the King had told him, with a strange, almost knowing look in his eyes. "I believe that they would fit you very well, Padawan Skywalker. After all, a great leader has worn them, long ago."_

As much as he had tried to make sense of the Kings strange words, their meaning had constantly eluded him. When he and his Master had finally returned to the Temple, Anakin had tossed the folded package at the bottom of a drawer, forgetting almost instantly about it.

Now, the Jedi Knight ran his fingers over the beautifully embroidered phoenix, wondering what it symbolized. Rummaging deeper, he found matching pair of pants, a belt, knee-high soft leather boots and a black cape. With slow gestures, fearing that the delicate material could tear, Anakin donned the full suit. After he clipped the mantle on his shoulders and he encased his robotic arms in their gloves, he turned his sights on the oil-splattered mirror that hung on a wall.

The transformation appeared almost total. The black, military style garb seemed to fit and drape perfectly, as if it had been tailored exactly for him. With grim amusement, Anakin observed that the whole ensemble, combined with the black-gloved hands, made him look as if he were encased in a dark armor.

"What is taking you so long?" Obi-Wan's aggravated voice called out. The Master entered the room, treading carefully, as to not trip on the junk littering the floor. "We haven't got all . . . "

But the words seemed to die in his throat, as he stared at Anakin, dumbstruck.

"Where . . . where did you get _those?" _he asked, his eyes fixed on the embroidered phoenix.

"The mess on Grizmalt, remember?" Anakin asked, casually.

"Ah, yes" Obi-Wan relaxed somewhat. "The King's gift."

"Received for a job well-done" Anakin teased, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. "While _you _were sitting around, doing nothing, _I _single-handedlytook care of a political disaster!"

"Without aggressive negotiations?" Obi-Wan asked, feigning shock, as he decided to play his pupil's game. "That is indeed a first!"

As an answer, Anakin playfully swatted at his former Master.

"We had better get going" Obi-Wan spoke, regaining his serious demeanor once more. "Master Ti has just informed me that the clone army has arrived."

The two men left the apartment together, walking at a brisk pace. Anakin liked the feeling of the tunic: the material appeared to be very soft but strong at the same time, as if the costume had been specifically tailored for use in battle. And, even though the latter was being careful about it, Anakin caught Obi-Wan several times looking warily at the phoenix.

As they passed a group of Padawans, who were busily erecting several barricades made up of furniture and other various items (Obi-Wan struggled to stifle a laugh as he recognized Yoda's Council seat among them) Anakin couldn't help but notice the stares that were directed at him. Very few Jedi had dared to transgress so far from the classical attire of the Order.

"_Always the one to stand out from the crowd" _Obi-Wan had jokingly said, when, several years earlier, Anakin had first started wearing robes that were much darker than those of his peers. He had definitely been right, Anakin thought to himself, in more ways than one.

Ever since he first set foot into the Temple he had been different. In an orderly, tightly organized world, he had always stood out, like a Gungan attending the Galactic Opera House. The other Padawans had always viewed him as a stranger, an outsider, a pariah. While they had been schooled almost from birth in the art of controlling their emotions, he had come from a far different background, with already formed attachments.

Of course, the Chosen One prophecy didn't make matters any easier, either. For thirteen years, it had loomed over him, like a sword poised to drop. "The Order's Hope" they called him, some in jest, and some in earnest. Some idolized him, while others wanted to prove their superiority over him with all costs.

And then there was the Jedi Council, whose members, Anakin thought scornfully, in spite of all the repeated dark warnings, had willingly blinded and tied themselves up and, in so doing, had ultimately ended up giving the Galaxy on a silver platter to a despotic Sith Lord. He had as well, played a very important part in the whole affair, Anakin realized, as the monster of shame and self-revulsion writhed in his chest. After all, he was the one who had blindly followed Palpatine and who had believed all of his contorted truths. Many of the events now unfolding were direct consequences of his own foolishness.

"_Why do all those around me end up dying, when all I want is to be able to protect them?" _he asked himself for probably the thousandth time. Unbidden, horrific memories of _The Praetor, _exploding in an incandescent halo of light flooded his mind. He could still see the dark corridors, littered with charred, twisted and frozen corpses, their faces locked in expressions of pure agony. He could still hear the faint moans of those who found themselves at death's door. He had tried to save some, only to have them die in his arms, as he watched, helpless.

50.000 men and women had vanished, in that single disaster, because of his own damned pride. He had wanted to prove to the others (and himself) that he was just as good a Commander as Obi-Wan. Even though he had been warned several times that he was heading right into a trap, he chose to ignore the signs, believing solely in his power to shape Destiny.

How wrong he had been. And tens of thousands had paid with their lives for his mistake.

"_A good Commander cares about those under his command" _Obi-Wan had told him once, as he lay recovering in the medcenter. _"A good Commander will always put the lives of the crew above his own. For him, not victory will be the supreme achievement, but the ability to bring his men back home safe."_

If only he had known that earlier . . .

"_How many will die now, because of my stupidity?" _he asked himself bitterly, as he passed large groups of Knights, patrolling the corridors. He knew, all too well that the Order was in the current situation because he had believed all of Palpatine's machinations, never bothering to look beyond the beautiful surface.

"M-master Skywalker?"

Anakin flinched, as the high-pitched, trembling voice of a child pulled him out of his dark thoughts. Looking down, he saw a Youngling not older than three standard years old, who was staring at him with a pair of large, frightened blue eyes. The sight of the child's fear brought up another painful and shameful memory, but Anakin crushed it back down ruthlessly. Now was not the time for wallowing in self pity, not with a battle looming closer and closer.

"Yes, young one. What is it?" he asked softly, kneeling next to the child. The child continued to stare at him silently, before he finally dared to ask:

"Will . . . we be attacked?"

Anakin placed his large, gloved hand on the boy's smaller one, wondering what to tell him.

"The Temple will be attacked, yes" he answered. "But you mustn't fear, little one. I will not allow harm to befall any of the children!"

Reaching out, Anakin scooped the child up, cradling him in his arms.

"Let's get you somewhere safe."

Holding the boy tightly against his chest, Anakin took off in a sprint toward the hangar, hoping that the other Masters had listened to his indications and had boarded all of the Younglings in transport ships, for immediate evacuation.

"Knight Skywalker!"

Anakin stopped instantly, as Master Shaak Ti raced to catch up with him.

"The Younglings . . . can't be evacuated" she spoke, breathlessly.

"What?" Anakin asked sharply, as the cold feeling of dread lurched inside him.

"The entire Coruscant system has been blockaded!" she said, sounding as close to panic as a Jedi can be.

"Are you sure of this?" he asked.

"Yes. Palpatine has ordered that every hyperspace route heading out from the system be heavily guarded with _Victory_-class Destroyers and Interdictors. We are trapped."

It took a few seconds for this devastating information to register in Anakin's mind, but when it did, the effect was immediate. The young man tightened his hold on the child, as the fire of anger blazed white-hot inside him. The boy whimpered against the steel fingers which were tightening painfully, instantly making Anakin loosen his hold.

"I'm sorry, Young One" he whispered, stroking the child's blond curls. The boy raised his luminous eyes up to the other's face and smiled.

Anakin's heart leapt in his chest, as he saw that small sign. A brilliant, little smile, that seemed to illuminate the child's entire face. The boy trusted him, Anakin realized, with growing amazement. Had he once been like this boy, innocent, unaware of world's cruelty, of the Darkness that now loomed at the edge of his soul, waiting and begging to be used?

"What should we do, Anakin?" Shaak Ti asked, intruding on his ruminations.

She believed in him as well, the young Knight understood. They all did. He was their Chosen One. But, at the moment, he felt as lost as ever, floating on a dark, stormy sea, with no guiding light in sight. Who was he supposed to guide them, when he couldn't guide himself?

"Take the children from the hangar" he said, the analytical part of his mind taking over once more. "We need to put them in the securest part of the Temple, if they are to have any chance of survival at all."

"But where?" the Togruta Jedi Master asked, her brow furrowing in confusion, after which realization hit. "The command center!"

"Yes, Anakin agreed. "It is deep below the Temple and it should buy the children some time."

"But what if the defenses will fall?"

"Then" Anakin said, a strange, almost inhuman grin twisting his handsome features, "we will all die."

There was no trace of fear in his voice, only the steely determination of a man that had nothing more to lose.

Shaak Ti felt a shuddering sensation, as she saw the other's determination. Perhaps it was uncertainty (fear), but she did not let it show on the outside.

Take him along with the others" Anakin said, handing Ti the child. But the boy seemed to have other ideas, for it started kicking and screaming loudly. Anakin swiftly took him in his arms once more, feeling him shiver uncontrollably.

"What is it, little one?" he asked, in a whisper, doing his best to soothe the child.

"I . . . don't want to leave . . ." the boy sobbed, his head buried in the folds of Anakin's black tunic. "I want . . . to stay with you . . ."

Anakin rocked him gently, back and forth, in an effort to calm him down. Though, outwardly, he seemed composed, the young Jedi was feeling a maelstrom of emotion on the inside. Was this how a parent held his offspring? Was this how a father protected his child? There these the emotions that a parent felt? Holding a defenseless being in his arms, while fearing that he might not be able to protect him from harm.

Only once did he feel the same swell of protectiveness and fatherly joy: in Palpatine's office, where the nexus of the Force had showed him a brief glimpse of his child. His unborn daughter. She had called him 'Papa', she had said that she loved him! That image alone had given him the strength to fight against Palpatine's torture.

And the child now huddled in his arms would give him the necessary strength to save his wife and baby girl from the tyrant's claws!

Gently pulling the boy from the spot where he had curled himself, Anakin handed him over to Shaak Ti, trying to ignore the desperate yells and pleas.

"Take him to safety" the young Knight ordered gruffly, as he left to reach up with his Master. Behind him, the child's screams became fainter and fainter, small echoes, amplified by the large rooms.

"Don't worry, little one" he whispered, "I will make sure that you will live!"

With this fierce oath now hanging as another weight to be carrier on his shoulders, the Knight trudged onward, through the deserted corridors.

**x x x**

At the same time as the Jedi Order's fate hung in the balance, a lone Nubian N-1 Starfighter streaked through Hyperspace, en route to the galactic capital. It was not a common N-1, for it was painted a dark blue shade, instead of the classic bright yellow and the wings were decorated with the insignias of the Naboo Monarchy and the Old Republic (which had not been removed, even though the new Imperial symbol had been drawn next to it).

"R-7" the fighter's only occupant, a young woman asked, "how much more to Coruscant?"

"Imperial Center, Ma'am" the droid corrected her, as the translation of his binary response appeared on the display monitor.

"Whatever" the woman replied, frowning. "I prefer Coruscant, though. Is Palpatine going to insist on changing the names of the public toilets too?"

Even if it could understand humor, the droid didn't appear to have much appreciation for it, because it listed only a curt reply. "Our ETA is ten minutes, Mistress Yané."

"So soon?" Yané asked, puzzled. "Must have been one short hyperspace route . . ."

But, before she could finish her sentence, an alarm went off on the console and the whole craft shook for a few seconds, before exiting Hyperspace.

"What in Queen Tassia's name is going on here?" Yané hissed angrily, as she held her hand to her forehead, which had impacted hard with the glass canopy.

"Unidentified fighter, specify your identity and the purpose of your visit to Imperial Center" a clipped, male voice sounded over the comm. Yané's eyes looked in all possible directions, until her astonished gaze fell on two very large ships, that made her one-man snub fighter look like a midget: a _Victory-_class Star Destroyer and an _Interdictor-_Class Cruiser.

"_The system is being blockaded!" _Yané's trained mind picked up immediately. Even though she was stunned, none of this showed in her tone of voice, which was as firm as ever.

"Yané Ravenok" she told her name, "Lieutenant-Commander of the Naboo Security Forces, and liaison to the Nubian Diplomatic Council on Coruscant."

"What is your reason for visiting Imperial Center, Lieutenant Ravenok?" the man asked, before adding: "Only those authorized by his Majesty can enter the system."

"My business lies directly with His Majesty" Yané explained. "I am to personally give His Highness a report of the Naboo system's transition and integration into the new Imperial structures. My clearance serial is J/40/339/736."

There was a short pause, as the code was checked, but then the Officer spoke again:

"Thank you, Ma'am. Enjoy your stay on Imperial Center."

"_Oh, I will, most definitely!" _Yané thought coyly, as she directed her fighter toward the planet. Even though her official assignment was to report to the Emperor, her _unofficial _task was to gather vital intelligence for the Royal Council.

In other words, espionage.

Even though Naboo had been one of the first planets to submit its approval of the new regime (seeing as it had no substantial army, other than the Security Forces, opposing the Imperial war machine had hardly counted as a choice), the fact still remained that the Nubian population in general, had very little trust in the Empire and its ruler. Staunch supporters of democracy, the Nubians had never considered a dictatorship to be a viable solution for the Republic.

And then there was the Royal Council, whose members were, in secret, very wary of the Emperor's intentions. As a means to discern Palpatine's plans for the Galaxy, the Council members, along with the current monarch of the planet, Queen Aphailana, had decided to send one of the best young security officers that Naboo had to offer, as a spy, in the midst of Palpatine's inner circle.

Yané Ravenok had been a very inspired choice for the task. Her childhood of service as one of Queen Amidala's handmaidens had taught her all that she needed to know about protocol, etiquette and how to deal with the upper echelon of society.

"Let's hope I can pull this off" she murmured to herself, as the clouds of the stratosphere parted to allow a magnificent view of the planet-wide metropolis. Yané nimbly guided her craft through the seemingly endless streams of traffic, before settling it down in one of the Senate Dome's many hangar bays.

"You stay here, R-7" she ordered, pulling off the dark jumpsuit that she had been wearing, to reveal a dress-uniform beneath. Tying her unruly, shoulder-length black hair into a severe bun, she opened the canopy, and jumped out of the fighter. Her boots made a clicking sound, against the metal floor, drawing the attention of three beings that had just entered the hangar.

"_Creepy welcoming committee" _Yané thought to herself, as a tall bald-pale skinned woman walked regally toward her, flanked by two imposing guards, dressed in bright red robes, with their faces obscured by red helmets.

"Good day, Madam Ravenok" the woman spoke, on an icy tone. "I am Sly Moore, Personal Secretary to His Majesty the Emperor. If you will be so kind as to follow me, I will lead you to your suite. All the proper accommodations have been made for your stay on Imperial Center."

"If I may be so bold as to ask" Yané said, interrupting Moore, "I would like a meeting with his Excellency, to discuss the issues of the Naboo system."

"All in due time" the taller woman waved a hand slightly. "The Emperor is currently unavailable and he will probably be so for the next days as well. I suggest that you find means to occupy your time until the, Madam."

"I will do so" Yané agreed, as she followed closely behind the woman and the two guards, closely examining Moore's words in her own mind. The secretary had addressed her as _Madam _and had not used her military rank. That clearly meant that her position of Lieutenant-Commander had absolutely no value at all in the Imperial Court, and that she would not benefit from a high-level security clearance.

"_Blast it!" _she thought, annoyed, as Sly Moore left, after showing her the way to her apartment. This would make her job much harder, but, Yané told herself with determination, it would not stop her. Not by a long shot.

**x x x**

"What kept you?" Obi-Wan asked, turning around to see Anakin ascend the stairs that lead to the wide balcony.

"Nothing" the Knight replied, trying to sound casual, as he examined the area around the Temple. Whereas it had been deserted a few hours ago, now it was teeming with activity, as a vast number of clones, grouped into tightly knit battalions arranged themselves around the structure.

"They are preparing for the siege" Obi-Wan said, examining a long line of missile launchers. "Let's hope that the magnetic shield will be effective against those."

"Don't worry" Anakin answered. "It will be."

Yoda studied the young Knight from head to toe, frowning slightly.

"Those robes suit you, young Skywalker" he said, on his mellow but deep tone. "Hope I do, that your life will be different than their original wearer."

Anakin frowned slightly, but, as no other explanation was forthcoming from the diminutive Master, he returned his eyes toward the clone army. He had a peculiar feeling that, somewhere in that compact mass of enemies, laid an ally, who would be vital in the Order's struggle for survival. His eyes scouted over the amassing clones, trying to find the object of his apprehension. Stretching out with his perceptions, he searched among the hundreds of Force-signatures, until a very familiar presence blazed bright against his senses.

"No" he whispered, his eyes widening in shock. "C/704 . . . it cannot be!"

Obi-Wan looked at his former pupil, feeling his amazement slamming hard against their bond.

"What is it?"

"I . . . just felt someone that I knew" he answered, with an unfocused look in his eyes. "And, maybe there is a way out of this after all."

'What do you mean by that?" Jor couldn't help but ask.

"Wait here!" the Knight ordered, bolting down the stairs, as everyone stared after him.

"Take after Knight Ankalagon, will he?" Yoda asked, concern lacing his voice.

"I hope not" Obi-Wan answered, softly.

"Who's Ankalagon?" Kazuya wondered, looking between the two Masters.

"Ankalagon" Obi-Wan answered, "was a renowned Jedi Knight during the Sith War, almost four thousand years ago. Even though he was not very gifted in the Force, he was a genius when it came to military tactics and strategy. Under his command, the joined armada of the Republic won victory over victory against the Sith Empire. The entire Galaxy was in love with him. They saw him as their hero, their savior, their Knight in shining armor. They idolized him to such an extent, that most actually whished to see him on the seat of Chancellorship! Of course, a Jedi cannot hold a public function, except a military rank, the Code forbids it. But Ankalagon, arrogant and stubborn, wouldn't listen to reason at all and, in one of the shortest elections in galactic history, ascended as the ruler of the Republic. The Jedi banished him from the Order, but he did not seem to care at all.

"Was he a good ruler?" Jor inquired.

"It depends on your point of view. True, under his ten year rule, commerce and trade flourished like it had not in any other age. And the Sith Empire steered clear of the Republic, with the joined armada dutifully guarding the borders. But, those were very dark times as well. Ankalagon became paranoid, to such an extent that he saw murder and betrayal everywhere. He ordered that all of his political rivals be assassinated in secret, until there was no one to candidate against him. He succeeded to turn, albeit for a short time, the democratic republic into a totalitarian regime."

"What happened to him?"

"He was killed, by the hired mercenaries of another, power-hungry Senator. Ironically, his worst fear became reality."

"And what does Master Anakin have to do with him?" Kazuya asked, perplexed.

"That uniform belonged to Ankalagon. He wore it in his campaigns as General and in his first days of office, before the obsession and madness took over. The silver phoenix, with its wings outstretched, as if preparing for flight, was his symbol."

"Do you fear the same for Master Skywalker?" Jor whispered, shuddering. "That he might fall into madness?"

"No, that is not what I fear. Anakin has far too strong a psyche. Instead, I am worried that he will succumb to the seductive pull of power. I am worried that his desire for power might increase, compelling him to pursue it, with no regard for anything else."

"_A man who loses the power with which he has become accustomed can be very dangerous"_ the previously silent Wookie Chewbacca intoned, in a low growl.

All of the balcony's occupants fell silent, each pondering both the possible outcome of the siege and the Chosen One's future.

Anakin's frantic footsteps finally carried him to the central entrance. Ignoring a group of stunned Padawans, he leaped over several barricades, exiting the Temple.

Immediately as they saw movement near the front doors, the troopers on the first line raised their rifles, getting ready to fire. C/704 raised his hand, so that every soldier would see him.

"Hold your fire, men. Let's see what it is first."

The troopers obeyed, lowering their weapons and watching the tall, black clad figure's long strides. C/704's eyes were glued on the Jedi, as he silently prayed:

"_Please, not him. Please, Maker, don't let it be him!"_

But his hopes were dashed, when he saw the man's handsome face and sharp blue eyes. The Jedi was still advancing steadily, with a black hand raised, palm forward, to show the soldiers that he had peaceful intentions.

"Well, well" he said, when he found himself only five meters away from the trooper. "Long time no see, eh Commando?"

"I could say the same, Jedi." C/704 answered, in similar fashion. "You're still as stubborn, though."

"Nothing will change that" Anakin answered, with a small smile. "Or did you actually think that I would turn tail and flee like a coward?"

"You could have saved your life" the clone hissed, angrily.

"I prefer to fight alongside the other Knights than run away to save my own skin" the young man replied coldly, his eyes flashing steel.

"You were always a fool" C/704 sighed, shaking his head. "And for this foolishness, you will end up paying with your life."

"Then just do it and be done with it" Anakin retorted, sharply. "Kill me, if you think that you can."

Then, to the amazement of the clones and the Jedi watching the exchange, he unclipped the lightsaber from his belt, letting it fall. The weapon hit the ground with a dull clank, which reverberated off the Temple's walls, in the frozen silence.

"I am defenseless" he went on, raising both if his hands to make his point. "Kill me, if you so badly wish to be rid of me."

For a few moments, all seemed to stand still, as the Jedi watched, with expressions of horror etched on their faces and the clones tightened the grips on their weapons, awaiting an order from their Commander.

Anakin, for his part, stood as motionless as a statue, his gloved hands outstretched, as if conveying a mute blessing upon the army, his black mantle billowing in the gentle breeze and the silver phoenix on his chest shining almost blindingly in the glare of the sun.

Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity to most, C/704 spoke:

"Do not shoot him, men."

Even if they were not satisfied with the order that they had just been given, the troopers gave no outwardly sign of it and obeyed as usual.

"Skywalker" the Commander said, on a resigned tone, "you know all too well that I cannot kill you, especially when I owe my life to you."

"Indeed" Anakin smiled slightly.

"What is it that you want from me?"

"I want you to order your troops to cease their preparations for the siege. I want you to leave the Temple alone."

Perhaps if the situation were different, C/704 would have laughed at the young Jedi's outlandish request. Now, however, his shoulders slumped.

"I cannot do that, Anakin. I and my men have been given a direct order by his Majesty the Emperor, whom we are sworn to serve with our lives."

"But can't you see that it is wrong? Palpatine is only using you, as he did everyone else! You are only tools to him, nothing more. How can you be loyal to such a man?"

"We have been specifically created to serve the head of the Galaxy, at all times" the clone answered, softly. "And there is nothing that we can do about it. I am sorry, Anakin."

Anakin nodded curtly.

"I understand. Then, we have no choice to defend ourselves, at _all costs."_

The way his eyes flashed again when he said 'all costs' made C/704 understand that both the and the rest of the Jedi were ready to give their lives in this fight.

"I will see you on the battlefield" Anakin said, before he picked up his saber, turned around and entered the Temple once more, the black mantle flowing gracefully behind him.

C/704 closed his eyes for a few seconds, praying:

"_Maker, give me strength!"_

Sighing deeply, he steeled himself. He had a duty to perform. He had been created for this and we would not allow emotion to get in his way.

"Men" he ordered, prepare the ground-air missiles for launch!"

The troopers hastily obeyed his command, swiftly loading the projectiles into the launchers.

"On my mark" he called out, raising his hand. "Now!"

And, with an almighty screech, five missiles were launched in rapid succession, hurtling toward the Temple.


	17. Furnace Heart, Divided Soul

I'm very sorry for the massive gap, everyone, but real-life has kicked me in the you-know-what a lot these past few months and writing (or using the computer, for that matter) had been completely thrown out of my mind for a while. My luck was a small, but very devoted group of friends, who pulled me out of the gloom and into the sunshine once more. Incidentally, some of them happened to be reading several of my writings and they used this as a means to get me distracted enough to forget about anything painful. May their souls be blessed! I'm indebted to them for the fact that they have been able to stand my constant mood swings and help me see the good side to every negative situation. :)

That being said, here's the next chapter. It was written sporadically, over a long period of time, when I felt strong enough to just sit down and write, without doing anything else. My gloomy state of mind is probably the reason why this one is much darker or violent than the others – do not read while eating and drinking. ;)

**Chapter XVII – Furnace Heart, Divided Soul**

Anakin walked slowly, the hard soles of his boots clicking on the marble floors of the Temple. All around him, Padawans, Knights and Masters were waiting, as the tension in the air gradually escalated. They could all feel it, in the Force's turbulent flow: the Darkness that seemed to slowly eclipse the Light, stealing all warmth and replacing it with a freezing coldness.

The young Knight continued his leisurely pace, showing no outward signs of distress. His gloved hand rested on the hilt of his lightsaber, as he listened to the Force's soft whispers. The eerie silence seemed to stretch far beyond him, as every Jedi laid waiting for the smallest of Fate's signs.

_That which is already doomed cannot be saved, _the small, dark voice in the back of his mind whispered. _Why bother? They were dead, from the moment that Palpatine proclaimed himself Emperor._

He wanted to deny it, shaking his head in defiance, until he realized that it would be a futile gesture. Every being of the Temple was now in mortal danger and no amount of denying would actually change that.

_Then, are you up to the challenge?_

Of course he was, the Knight thought silently, as he gazed through a window at the mass of white soldiers below. This was one of the things that he had always dreamed of: to prove to those around him that he _was _a powerful Jedi and not a former Tatooine slave boy, wasn't it?

And yet, the thought of the deaths and sacrifices that would inevitably come turned all hope into despair and left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Then, as sudden as a lightning strike, Anakin's eyes snapped toward the artillery batteries and missile launchers, where the clones were frantically loading ammunition. This was it. The ultimate test, which would prove his theory. If he had been right about the magnetic shield's influence of electronic circuitry, then none of the projectiles would be able to hit the Temple.

If he had been wrong, then the entire structure would cave in on itself, after the first five direct hits, killing all inside.

With a deafening screech, the first wave of ground-air missiles was launched, hurtling toward the Temple. Anakin's mechanical fingers dug in his palms, as he clenched his fists, silently counting away the seconds.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

Just as sudden as they entered the magnetic field's range, all of the missiles veered wildly off-course, hurtling upwards, in the skies. The Knight felt the floor shake briefly, as several explosions illuminated the skies above the structure.

Anakin couldn't suppress the small smirk that appeared on his face. So, he had been right after all. And the clones would soon understand their mistake.

Surely enough, after another two more failed waves of projectiles, the Commander ordered the gunners to cease their fire.

"I though you might have figured out my little trick, C/704" Anakin whispered, as he felt the clone's mixed emotions through the Force, when the man found out just what was protecting the Temple. A combination of anger, awe, frustration and respect could be detected in his mind, as he understood who the mastermind behind the magnetic shield was.

Under the young Knight's sharp gaze, the mass of clones started to shift and change formation. Clearly, they were going for another strategy.

"They will try to force open the main gates!" Agen Kolar spoke, startling Anakin.

"Indeed" he agreed. "The only thing we can do is try to slow them down. Have all the children been taken to the shelter?"

"Yes. Master Ti saw to it personally."

Anakin only nodded, as a large number of clones advanced in a compact mass, opening fire upon the Temple's sealed entrance. The entire structure shuddered under the multiple impacts.

"And that is our cue" the Knight spoke, unhooking the lightsaber from his belt and racing toward the main hallway, with Kolar close behind.

The entire Temple seemed to have been roused from its dazed stupor, as countless Jedi occupied their specified positions, preparing themselves, both mentally and physically, to give their lives in defense of the Order.

"Knight Skywalker!" several of them called out to him, as he passed by, in a swirl of black velvet, but he ignored them, as his boots pounded on the floor in a staccato rhythm. Colors and sounds rushed past his eyes and ears, but he paid them no mind, his conscience now fully centered on the dark, almost palpable sense of impeding disaster.

Anakin stopped suddenly, when he entered the main hall. The wide corridor was full of Padawans, Knights and Masters, each of them making last-minute preparations to the clones' 'surprise reception' as Obi-Wan had mildly put it. Teenage Padawans, the eldest no more than seventeen years old, were placing small, concealed explosive charges, in key spots, as the older and stronger Knights were struggling to barricade the large durasteel doors, which looked like they were ready to fall apart any second, under the troopers' intense barrage of fire.

"We won't be able to keep them out much longer, at this rate" a Devaronian Master sighed, wiping the seat from his brow.

"The goal is not necessarily keeping them out, but slowing them down and causing as many casualties among their ranks as we can" Anakin explained, his dark blue eyes burning intensely, as they regarded the mangled gates. "We have no choice in the matter, other than holding our ground to the last second. The only thing that we can do then is make sure we take as many of them with us as we can!"

The same mix of emotions as those at _The Praetor's _fall now shone on Anakin's features: barely constrained anger, a blazing hatred which burned near the surface and the same wild fanaticism lining his voice. All those who saw him in those moments were secretly relieved that he was on their side. As for the Devaronian Master, is mind was spinning, as a short, but powerful image made its way in his head: Anakin Skywalker, with the same feral expression twisting his features, cloaked in Darkness, with a battalion of clone troopers marching behind him, ascending the stairs of the Temple's entrance.

"We will try" the Master answered, banishing the black image of that thread of Destiny, which had nearly been possible a few short hours ago (even though he did not know it).

Anakin nodded almost imperceptibly, his blazing eyes measuring the entire corridor.

"Just what are your intentions?" Kolar's deep voice resonated, as he turned to face the young Jedi.

"Have you not figured it out, Master?" Anakin asked, his tone slightly derisive. Clearly, he had not forgotten Kolar's lack of faith in him.

"Class B explosives, barricades on both sides of the room . . ." Agen whispered, counting the preparations. His brow furrowed in confusion, but, after a few seconds, his eyes opened wide, in shock.

"No! You can't be serious!" he hissed, the shock and outrage clearly written on his face.

"I am dead serious" Anakin answered, his voice cold. "They are the ones asking for it."

Kolar envisioned the outcome in his mind. The clones would burst in through the doors, unaware of what awaited the on the other side. When they would finally break through, they would find themselves facing a solid barricade, with only one gap in the middle. The Jedi would herd them through the barricade and onto the minefield beyond.

"It will be a bloodbath" he finally found his voice. "Mass slaughter!"

"Nothing more or less than what they deserve" Anakin said, showing no emotion, other than coldness and steely determination.

"This is not the Jedi way!"

Anakin looked at Agen Kolar, a feral smile blossoming on his lips, as he remembered himself uttering those same words, not so long ago.

"Not the Jedi way? Perhaps. But the time for pacifism and stagnation has long since passed, Master Kolar. Now, it is all or nothing. When one is fighting for his very survival, one has no time to reflect on his actions."

"And morality?" Kolar asked, already reading the answer in the other's tempestuous eyes.

At that, Anakin threw his head back and roared with laughter. But it was not the happy, carefree laughter that he had possessed as a boy, but a twisted, mirthless, cold shadow.

"Stop preaching vaunted principles, from old textbooks!" he said, his tone rough and dark. "Now they value nothing!"

Turning toward the entrance, where several Masters were fighting with all of their might to keep the doors closed, his eyes shone with the same icy flame as earlier.

"I gave their Commander the chance to back down and give up this senseless siege, but he foolishly chose to defy me and go on. It is time that someone showed him where his place is!"

"And you would go against every rule of the code to do so?" Kolar inquired, disbelievingly.

"The Jedi Code will not save anyone now" the young Knight retorted, waspishly. "The Commander underestimated my resolve. He does not know what I am ready to do to defend this Temple! And for that, he will pay dearly!"

For all those near, it was clear that the young man speaking was not the kind-hearted, if somewhat reckless Jedi that they had come to know these past thirteen years, but the ruthless, inflexible military Commander who had led the Republic troops to victory after victory against the Separatists. And, although they wouldn't confess it to each other, none of them wished to go against him.

"If there is a lesson that this war has taught me" he went on, obviously enjoying Kolar's vexation, "it is that the end _does _justify the means! If this is the only way of protecting this Temple, then so be it. I will dispatch any clone who dares to oppose me, the Code be damned!"

For a moment, Kolar couldn't utter a single sound. His mouth opened and closed several times, until, with a vigorous shake of the head, he broke out of his daze.

"I will not be a part of this!" the Zabrak Master spoke, raising his chin defiantly and meeting the other's gaze directly.

Anakin's eyes narrowed slightly, their depths darkening, as he coolly regarded the other man.

"If you are not with me, _Master" _he hissed dangerously, "then you are against me!"

Agen Kolar felt an icy shiver run down his spine at the Knight's implied threat. However, not the words themselves were the cause of his reaction, but the way they had been spoken. Gathering his courage around him like a shield, he stared into the younger man's eyes.

The two remained still for a full minute, a silent battle of wills waged between them. In the end, however, it was Kolar who lowered his head, like a dog that had defied its master and was now awaiting its punishment.

"I will follow you, my Commander" he said, in a resigned tone.

Anakin only had time to nod in approval, when a Padawan screamed: "They're coming through!" and, with an almighty boom, the durasteel doors were shattered. Dozens of Jedi leapt behind the barricades, to protect themselves from the explosion's shockwave and the flying shrapnel. With lightning speed, Anakin gripped Kolar by the shoulders and jumped into a small alcove, as a deluge of metal shards rained down.

"So, it comes to this" the young Knight whispered, his eyes burning as intensely as ever. Igniting his cerulean blade, he ran out of the niche, like a predator getting ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey.

Meanwhile, the clone troopers, after several unsuccessful attempts to break through the doors, finally managed to set up two explosive charges. With a roaring boom, the entrance was blown apart, causing the permacrete floor to shudder under their boots.

"Forward, troopers!" a clone Lieutenant ordered. Behind him, the clones grouped into a tightly knit phalanx and marched up the shattered marble stairs. Inside, they were met by a solid wall of Jedi, intent on keeping them out. The troopers immediately opened fire, which was just as quickly deflected by the Knights, with swift, graceful moves.

"Break through the line!" the Lieutenant shouted, managing to shoot a female Jedi in the chest, sending her tumbling to the floor, in a pool of blood. "Break through . . ."

But he could speak no more, as he felt a searing pain in his left arm. Howling in agony, the soldier clutched the cauterized stump that had been his hand, looking up in horror, at the Jedi with burning blue eyes who had struck him.

"You will have to pass by me, if you wish to attack this Temple!" the man spoke, his face illuminated by the blue fire of his saber.

Howling in rage, the Lieutenant brought up his blaster pistol, at point blank range and pulled the trigger. The Knight, however, raised his blade in an ascending arc, deflecting the laser beam up into the ceiling.

"Not today" the young man smirked, as the blade descended at blinding speed, burning through the clone's left arm and neck. The soldier's body crumpled to the floor in a heap, its armor clattering noisily against the marble tiles.

"Force them through the middle of the barricade!" Anakin yelled, spinning his saber end over end, to deflect a new volley of blaster fire. The other Jedi conformed themselves, widening their circle and letting the troopers pass through. Unaware of what was to come, the clones marched ahead, blasting at any Jedi that they could get in their sights.

"Just a little more. . . Now!"

A Padawan who was tucked inside a niche near the gates heard Anakin's shout. Gripping the small control panel with sweaty palms, he flipped the activate switch.

For several seconds, nothing seemed to happen. And then, several charges detonated in the middle of the hall, in a flash of blinding light and searing heat. The clones that had been closest to the explosives flew apart, their contorted bodies slamming into the walls, as the smells of vaporized plastic and charred flesh mixed.

Those farther away were thrown off their feet by the shockwave, loosing their precious advantage over the Jedi.

"Attack!" Anakin ordered, jumping out from behind the barricade that had shielded him from the blast. The other Knights did the same, grouping themselves into a tight line, sweeping forward, with their sabers held high.

Anakin walked ahead, on a steady pace, the broken pieces of burnt armor cracking and shattering under the weight of his black boots. From inside a niche, a trooper quickly stepped out, charging the young man, at full sprint. However, he didn't even get within three meters, when a sudden ripple in the Force sent him flying backwards, into a wall, with the tell-tale crunch of a spine breaking.

"Do not hesitate!" the Knight sharply admonished a Padawan, whose horrified eyes were riveted on what was left of a clone. "They would do the same to us, if they had the chance!"

"Yes, M-Master Skywalker" the boy stammered, clutching his lightsaber even tighter.

Anakin's lips parted, for a moment, revealing his teeth, in a wild smirk. But, in a few seconds, the expression changed into a grimace, as he understood what was causing the slight undertone of fear, in the boy's voice.

Him.

The Padawan was afraid of _him._

_And he has reasons to be, _that deep, sunken voice whispered from within the murky depths.

It was the same voice that had taunted him in the Council chamber, whispering constantly about Padme's imminent death. The same voice that had cajoled him into slaughtering the Tusken camp, after his mother's death. The voice that had mocked him on Jabiim, telling him that his Master was dead and that he was all alone. The voice that had followed him in secret, for the better part of his waking life.

The part of him that always seemed to speak in Palpatine's voice.

_He should be afraid. After all, you are a war criminal, are you not?_

_Shut up!_

_Dooku was an unarmed prisoner._

_Palpatine made me do it!_

_You did it, Skywalker! Stop deluding yourself! _

_It wasn't my fault!_

_Do not try to pin the blame on someone else! Be a man, for a change and assume responsibility for your own decisions!_

_Speechless are we? Some Jedi you are! You can't protect your own wife, much less an entire Galaxy!_

_Nothing will ever happen to Padme! I will not allow it!_

_Big words, coming from one such as yourself! Face it, son, you're a failure!_

_I swore that would become the most powerful Jedi that this world has ever seen!_

_And did you fulfill your oath? Do you know the secret to immortality? Do you walk in the Light? Face it, young one, you're already half-fallen, though you may not admit it!_

_SHUT UP!_

"Anakin?" Kolar asked, a deep frown creasing his forehead. "What is it?"

The young Jedi shook his head several times, as if to clear it.

"Nothing" he answered, on a low tone, barely above a whisper. His face, however, seemed darker and grimmer than ever.

For a few moments, the hallway seemed eerily silent, as the last survivor of the first wave of the attack fell to Kolar's saber.

Then, the floor shook violently, as dust and debris rained down from the ceiling.

"What is going on?" Anakin asked, staring upward. His eyes bulged, in shock.

"No . . ."

"What?" Kolar coughed, shielding his face.

"They're breaking through the thermal exhaust vents!"

No sooner had these words been spoken, that a large group of troopers blasted through the walls, large concussion rifles on their shoulders. The entire hall was enveloped in a cloud of acrid, blinding dust, as the humms of lightsabers and the cries of the wounded sounded from all sides.

"Stay together! Don't spread apart!" Anakin tried to call out, but the dust got into his lungs, making him choke and lose his breath. He felt a sharp pain in his back, as the butt of a rifle hit him squarely between the shoulder blades. Caught off guard, he fell forward, hitting the floor hard.

"It's over, Anakin."

He opened his stinging eyes, to stare into the muzzle of a rifle, behind which he could see the white, grim mask of a clonetrooper.

"704" he spoke hoarsely, his fingers wrapping themselves around the hilt of his saber. "You made the wrong choice."

"The only choice I had" the Commander answered flatly, pressing the rifle to Anakin's forehead. "It's over, kid."

A blue column of cobalt fire shot to life, rotating in a wild arc. It sailed through the air, burning through the weapon and melting it. The Jedi's black boots smashed into 704's groin, making the soldier fall to his knees. Anakin raised himself up, placing the blade a few millimeters from the trooper's neck.

All this in the span of barely a second.

The two combatants stood frozen to the spot, staring each other in the eye.

Anakin's blood rushed and boiled through his veins, as he gazed at the black lenses of the Commander's mask. He needed only to make on move, one slight flick of the wrist and the soldier would lie on the floor, headless. He would leave the attack force without its leader, in one stroke.

_He is only a weakling, a flea. Rid the world of him, _the voice whispered once more, in low, seductive tones.

Anakin's fingers tightened painfully around the weapon. He could . . . he had the power and he could do it. The man that had defied him would lay dead, lifeless, on the floor

_And no one would ever have the courage to defy you again._

The young Jedi heard an inaudible moan and turned around, only to see the young Padawan from earlier, lying on the ground, both of his legs broken and twisted at unnatural angles. His eyes were wide-open, the pain shining inside them like the glow a new-born star. His lips moved, but no words came out.

_Do it!_

"What the stang are you waiting for, kid? For the moons of Yavin to drop down on your head?"

Anakin shook his head vigorously, as an amused voice filtered through the haze of confusion and uncertainty that clouded his mind. Looking down, he met 704's unseen eyes and, for a moment, he could swear that the soldier was actually smiling under the white, frowning mask. Even with a lightsaber at his throat, the man was _smiling!_

_Take his life and he will never mock you again!_

Anakin felt a new surge of anger crashing through him, like a tidal wave, but, with surprising detachment, he realized that it was not his own. It boiled inside him, surging into a roaring flame, but it did not belong to him. It was rising, along with the voice, from the dark abyss that lurked inside him. It belonged to another person entirely. The person that nearly exploded with rage in front of the Jedi Council.

The person that murdered Dooku.

Suddenly, as fast as it had been ignited, the blue blade was extinguished, hanging harmlessly in the Knight's black hand. C-704 looked at Anakin, noting the young man's unusual paleness, as if the blood had been drained from his cheeks and the eyes, in which the trooper saw nothing short of sheer terror.

"Get . . . out of here, 704." Even as he said these words, Anakin's voice seemed blank, almost droid-like and his expression did not change at all. Gloved fingers wrapped themselves painfully around the trooper's left wrist, pulling him roughly to his feet.

"Get out of here" he said once more, before 704 could snap out of his bewilderment, "and take your men with you, or else I swear by the Force that I will _kill_ you all! Just like I did Dooku!"

C-704 nodded dumbly, incapable of another act, under the scrutiny of such intense eyes. But, for a split-second, he was sure that he had seen a glimmer of yellow in their dark blue.

"Leave before it's too late" Anakin spoke once more, breaking eye-contact and bending down, to toss the wounded teenage Padawan over his shoulder. "My self-control is done for."

Securing the boy tightly, with both hands, Anakin surveyed the devastation around him. Most of the young Knights and Padawans lay dead, sprawled on the floor, with charred holes in the middle of their chests and the hallway was slowly being overrun with a second wave of clone reinforcements.

"Retreat to the second line of defense! To the second line!"

All those that could hear the Knight's order scrambled wildly, deflecting blaster bolts from all sides and trying to make an orderly retreat.

"The Jedi are retreating! After them, men!"

The man who spoke, a captain in a grey uniform, broke into a sprint, followed by an entire front of clone troopers, each aiming their blasts in quick succession at the scurrying Jedi.

C-704 alone stood motionless, as many of his brothers passed by him. His thoughts were in turmoil, spinning in mad circles, but one image stood out clearly in his chaotic mind: the look in Anakin's eyes, as if the Jedi was being haunted by a demon. The experienced Commander had seen it numerous times in the war, in the eyes of soldiers that had witnessed entire populations being wiped out, or in those of the ones responsible for the massacres.

But this time, something essential was different. The fear was not directed outwards, but _inwards._

"_The kid is afraid of himself" _C-704's mind arrived at the logical conclusions and numerous pieces of the puzzle surrounding the young man seemed to suddenly fall perfectly into their designated spots.

"Commander, what is it?"

704 turned his gaze to a trooper that had grabbed him by the shoulder and was shaking him lightly.

"Are you wounded, sir?"

"Only in my pride, soldier" he answered, picking up a discarded rifle. "I'm indebted to a Jedi twice!"

**x x x**

Obi-Wan leaned slightly against the edge of the balcony, surveying the massive gathering of troops surrounding the Temple. A chilly breeze billowed from the north, making the man pull his outer robe tighter around himself.

"A move, the clones have made not?" Yoda asked, shielding his eyes from the mid-day sun, as he gazed at the soldiers.

"Apparently not" Obi-Wan spoke, keeping his stance tense.

"If they can't hit us with missiles or heavy artillery, maybe they'll give up" Kazuya volunteered, her brown eyes sparkling hopefully.

"Not likely. According to Anakin's outline for the strike, they will attempt to break down the main blast doors."

"You seem to place a lot of trust on your former learner, Obi-Wan" Luminara interjected. "He seems much too conflicted to be able to make objective decisions, in my opinion."

"Let's _not_ start this discussion again" Obi-Wan said wearily, bringing a palm to rest against his forehead. "I've fought alongside Anakin for almost the entire duration of this war and I know him . . . better than most. I trust him. And that's all that there is to it."

"Jedi Kenobi speaks the truth" Chewbacca growled, fiddling with his large bowcaster. "Many tales about Anakin Skywalker have reached Kashyyyk and the Wookies consider him to be one of the best military leaders that the Republic has had in this war."

"Still, the fact that he is an excellent strategist does not mean that he is also a very good Jedi" Luminara argued.

"Not the right place for this discussion, this is" Yoda said, hitting his gimmer cane on the stone dais, to get everyone's attention. "When the battle over will be, young Skywalker's problems discuss we will."

Both Luminara and Obi-Wan nodded at this, but Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel a pang of dread at the thought that, maybe, they would never again get the opportunity to gather in the Council Chamber.

The railing vibrated slightly under his palm, as a few muffled explosions could be heard.

"They're in!" Kazuya jumped, gripping the hilt of her lightsaber.

"Steady, Padawan" Obi-Wan placed a calming hand on the girl's shoulder. "Our task is to wait, in case the first line of defense needs backup. And, besides, you and Padawan Jor will be going to the command center, to aid Master Ti, in defending the Younglings."

"You mean we won't be fighting on the first line?" the teenager asked, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"No" Obi-Wan answered, looking directly into the girl's eyes. "But, if all else fails, you will be part of the last group defending the Order's future."

Kazuya wanted to answer, but no words could leave her throat, when she looked at Obi-Wan's somber expression.

"Y-yes, Master."

Obi-Wan could not say anything else, for a large blast made the floor under his boots shake violently and the noise caused his ears to ring.

"What in the Force was that!" Luminara asked, as Chewbacca helped her stand, after the explosion caused her to lose her balance and fall.

"Obviously, a complication" Obi-Wan frowned. His comlink blinked and he answered it immediately.

"_Master Kenobi . . . overwhelmed . . . in retreat . . . need assistance . . ." _Agen Kolar's voice sounded, among the buzz of static.

"Master Kolar? Can you hear me?" Obi-Wan asked, shaking the comlink several times.

"Is he still there?" Luminara took a step forward, worry lines creasing her soft-featured face.

I don't know" Obi-Wan said, giving the device one last shake, before stuffing it into his pocket. "There's too much interference for the signal to get through."

"Than this is the signal that we're needed" the Mirialan Master answered, unhooking her lightsaber. The other two Masters did the same, followed by Chewbacca, who loaded an energy cell into his bowcaster.

"Listen you two" Obi-Wan said, looking at Kazuya and Jor, "head directly to the command center and nowhere else!"

"Yes. Master" they answered in unison.

"Good" he nodded, walking to the door. "And may the Force be with you."

The two didn't even get a chance to reply, for Obi-Wan had taken off in a wild sprint, down the corridor.

"Let's go" Kazuya said, her eyes glowing.

The Padawans made their way cautiously through the Temple, making sure to avoid the skirmishes between Jedi and clonetroopers.

"Kaz, the center is this way" Jor tried to get her attention, pointing to a narrow, winding stairwell.

"Hang on a moment" she answered, hiding behind a pillar, only to witness three clone pump a series of blaster bolts into the body of a young woman.

"That was Tra'aa . . ." Kazuya whispered, covering her mouth with one palm, her eyes widening in shock. "They . . . can't have killed her!"

"Kaz" Jor gripped his friend's wrist with one green, scaly hand. "Let it be. We can't do anything about it."

"Yes we can!" the girl answered, her eyes narrowing. "We can send these juma-heads to heck!"

"Kaz . . ."

But no argument could deter the girl. Igniting her green blade, she stepped from behind the pillar, in full view.

"Hey, laser-brains! Over here!"

The clones turned toward her and immediately launched a wave of blasterfire, making the girl pant with the effort necessary to block and deflect them.

"This crazy girl is gonna get herself killed at this rate" Jor mumbled, rolling his large black eyes in annoyance. Igniting his own blade, he stepped up beside Kazuya, moving in sync with her.

In a few moments, the three troopers were sprawled over the floor, dead.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Kazuya asked, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

"Don't do that again!" the Rodian Padawan said, leaning against a wall to catch his breath. "You and your hair-brained schemes almost got us killed several times during the war."

"But we haven't died yet" the girl countered. "And we're on the market for Masters!"

The Padawans shared a small, sad smile. Both of their Masters had been killed almost a standard year ago, in the battle of Rendili and since then, they had been paired up and passed from one Knight to the other. Their last tutor had been Kit Fisto, who had been murdered by Palpatine the night before.

"We don't have much luck, do we?" Jor asked, shrugging his shoulders. "But, I think that you're still secretly hoping for Master Kenobi to take us on."

"No I am not!" Kazuya shook her head, making her way down the corridor, among the bodies of other fallen Padawans.

"Really? I was under the impression that you liked him."

"And just what gave you that idea?" the girl asked, keeping her tone nonchalant, as she stepped into a small puddle of blood.

"Well . . . maybe it's the fact that when we were younglings, you used to follow him around every time he visited our group . . . or when he needed to be informed of something, you were always the first one to volunteer . . . or, during the war, when you would always cheer when you heard of one of his victories and worried for an entire month, when he had been reported missing in action after the battle of Jabiim, making Master Tholme give you a lecture about the dangers of attachment . . ."

"_That_ was a simple teenage crush! I'm over it."

"Are you?" Jor asked, amused. "Then why were you blushing like mad when he patted you on the shoulder?"

"Shut up, bug-face!" Kazuya mumbled, her cheeks reddening.

Jor chuckled slightly. He loved to rile up his more temperamental partner.

The Padawans' light-hearted banter stopped instantly, when they saw a group of clones standing directly in front of them, silently waiting. Behind them, a second group had appeared, having stood hidden in several niches in the wall.

"We're surrounded" Jor said, his antennae perking up, to detect the slightest movement.

"Sithspit!" Kazuya huffed under her breath, igniting her weapon.

"We can't fight all of them!" Jor exclaimed, gaping at his friend.

"But we can still try, nonetheless" Kazuya answered, with a hard stare that clearly told the other to pull himself together. "We've been through much more than this in the war!"

Swinging the emerald blade over her shoulder, in a Juyo position, Kazuya struck out with several wide arcs, deflecting the first bolts back to their owners. Placing one foot in front of the other, the girl planted herself firmly in the middle of the hall, swinging her blade in an array of large swings, while Jor seemed to move with twice the speed of a normal being, slashing the legs from under one trooper and making him fall to the floor.

Despite that fact that they had been inseparable friends ever since they had been Younglings, a great many things separated Kazuya Ataro and Jor Teroh. Kazuya was a human female, of average height, possessing a very solid, robust frame, with wide shoulders. She had never been an adept at using the Force actively, in meditation or in combat, so, most of the times, she had to rely on sheer brute strength to pull her out of a tight situation. In consequence, she had chosen to make herself a more martially-oriented Jedi, wishing to master the Shien and Juyo lightsaber techniques.

Jor, on the other hand, was a very light, fast combatant. His tall, slim frame allowed him to move with grace and speed, making him choose to study the Ataru and Soresu forms, during both of which the Jedi must draw heavily upon the Force, to be able to execute the required acrobatics and lightning-fast moves.

"This one is mine!" Kazuya called out, bringing her blade down in a sweeping strike, slicing a wide gash through a clone's chest.

"We should have joined Master Ti!" Jor yelled, as he somersaulted over two soldiers.

"She can take care of herself!" Kazuya answered, panting slightly. "We're Jedi and it's our duty to be on the front lines as well!"

The determined girl gritted her teeth together, as a blaster bolt seared her left shoulder. Spinning on one leg, she hit the nearest trooper with a roundhouse kick, making him slam into the wall.

"I think that . . . we're winning this!" Jor huffed, wiping dark-green blood from his cheek with one hand, whilst dispatching a clone with the other.

The remaining soldier, seeing both Padawans charge toward him, took off, dropping his rifle.

"You're not getting away that easily!" Kazuya hissed, her boots pounding on the floor, as she started to sprint after the fleeing man.

"Kaz, no!" Jor screamed, sensing the danger, but his friend was not hearing him anymore. Throwing herself forward, Kazuya slammed both of her feet into the trooper's back, making both of them fall on the floor. The girl raised her blade, for a strike, but the clone gripped her right arm, twisting it suddenly. Kazuya yelled, as the bone broke under the pressure and the weapon fell from her limp fingers. She felt another jolt of pain, as the clone's armored fist slammed into her face, throwing her into the wall.

Kazuya's eyes were filling up with tears, as the pain tore through her body. Looking down, she saw that the front part of her olive tunic was splattered with blood. The soldier's punch had broken her nose.

"Pretty tough, for such an annoying brat!" the clone spoke harshly, grabbing Kazuya by a fistful of brown hair. "But I doubt there's anything that you can do now!"

"And you're pretty dumb for a clone trooper!" the girl panted, almost choking on the blood that still trickled down her face. Extending a hand, she silently summoned the Force to her will. The life-energy responded and Kazuya felt the cold, metal of a rifle hitting her palm. Before the trooper could figure out what was happening, she brought the weapon up, pointing it straight at his visor and squeezing the trigger. The point-blank blast vaporized the clone's upper body, throwing his remains five meters through the air. The same blast slammed Kazuya into the wall again, making the hall spin like crazy before her eyes.

"That was for Tra'aa and the others" she whispered, the weapon falling from her hand and onto the floor. Jor skidded to a halt, jumping over what was left of the clone's body and kneeled next to his friend's crumpled form.

"Are you alright, Kaz?"

"No" she moaned. "I can't fell the left side of my body at all."

Jor's placed his scaly palms on Kazuya's shoulders, trying to feel through the Force what was wrong with his friend.

"Broken ribs, I guess" he said, with a rueful smile, "though I can't say for certain. I've never been much of a healer."

"Save your strength" Kazuya advised him, wincing slightly as she shifted her position. The lines of her young face were set in grim determination, but a glimmer of happiness could be seen under the stoic façade.

"I really did it" she said quietly, almost in a whisper. "I managed to move an object with the Force, in the middle of a battle!"

"Master Fisto would have been proud" Jor said, patting Kazuya gently on the shoulder. "And probably Master Kenobi too!"

Kazuya smiled slightly, but did not miss out on the occasion to slap Jor, with an expression of mock-outrage on her features.

"Well, it looks like the children aren't taking much part in this fight. All the more easy for us!"

The two Padawans looked up startled, only to meet a man's cold, sharp gaze. He appeared to be an officer, dressed in a grey uniform, with four clone troopers standing neatly behind him.

"I suggest you surrender your lightsabers and surrender. The Emperor _may_ spare your lives, if you cooperate!"

"Eat bantha poo!" Kazuya ground out, glaring at the officer. Jor, however, retrieved both weapons and handed them over, with a resigned expression.

"What do you think you're doing, you coward!" Kazuya asked, incredulously, holding back a scream as two troopers roughly lifted her up.

"It's our only shot" he answered, on a low tone. You're in no condition to fight anymore and I wouldn't have stood a chance against them myself. If we let them believe that we're not a threat, they'll let their guard down. And then . . ."

Kazuya tilted her head, considering her friend's idea. Being manhandled by clontroopers was not high on her list of priorities, but she could see the logic behind Jor's actions. And if one of them managed to establish a mental link with one of the Masters . . .

"You were right, we should have helped Master Ti" she said, with a lop-sided smile.

"Shut up and get moving!" the officer ordered harshly, as one of the troopers backhanded the girl.

_Anyone, help us! _Jor called out into the Force, cringing slightly, as he saw a new trickle of blood flowing down Kazuya's face.

**x x x**

**Planet Chandrila, Star-System Chandrila**

It was a cold, winter day, but the skies were clear, nonetheless. A bright sun shined down over Chandrila, but it did not yet have the power to warm up the planet or thaw the snow and ice that had taken hold over it. A sleek, white shuttle could be seen descending rapidly through the frosty atmosphere. It lowered itself neatly on a landing pad, while several men in dark blue uniforms surrounded it.

"Lady Mothma" their captain saluted the imposing red-haired woman who was climbing down on the ship's outstretched ramp. "We are very glad to see you among us once more."

"I am glad to be back on my homeworld as well, Captain Laskar" she answered, smiling slightly.

"What brings you all the way from Coruscant, Milady?" the Captain asked, falling in step alongside Mon Mothma, as the other guards followed, in a tight formation.

"Politics, in general" she answered, her voice growing darker. "Palpatine's self-proclamation, in particular."

"Is it true, then? Has the Republic been transformed into an Empire?"

"Not transformed, my dear Laskar. It was already an Empire. Palpatine made only a few slight adjustments."

"And it all happened right under our noses" the captain whispered, incredulously.

"Still, we must not despair" Mothma said, gazing pointedly at him. "The battle is far from over. Has the Council of Ministers gathered?"

"They're in session as we speak, Milady" Laskar answered, as the group stopped, in front of a set of large, white, wooden doors.

"Good" the Senator, nodded, in approval. "Not everyone is loyal to Palpatine. Several systems are planning to secede from the Empire."

"Will Chandrila be one of them?"

"That remains to be seen" Mon Mothma answered curtly. Opening the doors, she stepped inside a large conference room, with a round, wooden table set in the middle. Laskar bowed slightly, making sure to close the doors behind the Senator.

All of the men who were currently seated around the table immediately rose from their chairs.

"Lady Mothma, we are overjoyed to see you here" the oldest Minister spoke, a short, wiry man. He crossed the room, limping on a gimmer cane and took Mothma's hand in both of his own. "We had been worried that Palpatine had imprisoned you!"

"Imprisoned me?" the woman asked, frowning. "What do you mean, Minister Rafin?"

"I suggest you look at this, Milady" another, much younger Minister spoke, motioning for Mothma to take a seat. She did so, while a holo-projector, placed on the center of the table, was activated. The face of a young, human female appeared, as she mechanically recited the news:

"_Earlier today, Senator Fang Zhar of the Sern Prime star-system, has been arrested, having been found guilty of high treason against the values of the newly instituted Galactic Empire. In an official press conference, Senate Chairman, Mass Amedda explained what was Zhar's role in the failed coup." _

The holo-image shifted, as the woman's face disappeared, being replaced by Amedda's stern, blue features.

"_Fellow delegates, representatives of the media and citizens of the Galaxy" _he intoned, raising both of his hands, to get everyone's attention._ "There has been much unnecessary panic and unrest in regard to his Imperial Highness, Emperor Palpatine's ascension to the Galactic throne. I assure you, there is no need to be worried. This, as His Excellency so well stated it within the session of Congress, has been a means to ensure a better protection for our citizens, in these trying times. After a long war, the time for peace has come and what better way to achieve it, than under the rule of a wise, caring man? The one who has been formerly known as Chancellor Palpatine has sworn his undying loyalty to the just principles of the Republic, to the virtues of peace and democracy. But, he has also realized that, in dangerous times such as these, a steady hand is required to guide the world, to help it heal its wounds and achieve stability and prosperity."_

"He's sugar-coating everything!" Mothma huffed, in quiet indignation, her eyes never leaving the Chagrian's arrogant features.

"Don't all dictators do the same, my dear?" Rafin spoke gently, patting Mothma's hand with his own frail, wrinkled palm.

"_Sacrificing himself for the institution he has sworn to serve, Mass Amedda went on, oblivious to the scowls and mutterings of the Chandrilan Council of Ministers, the Emperor has committed himself to protecting and nurturing this Galaxy, under his compassion and grace. He has lead us through a war, he will lead us to peace."_

A full round of applause could be heard from the projector's audio system, as Amedda smiled, satisfied.

"_Still, there will always be those . . . anarchists, if I may use such harsh a word . . . who would do anything in their power to continue the senseless fighting that has held our world in its grip for three, long years. These are the people who continue to side with the treasonous Jedi Order and who would take any opportunity to harm our Emperor, in their desperate bid for power."_

Rafin made a small spectacle of rolling his eyes, as dramatically as possible, to the general amusement of all involved. Even Mon Mothma had to suppress a smile.

"_Citizens of this new Empire"_ Amedda gestured, widely, _the danger that these dissidents pose is far greater than you have initially imagine, for they are not low-lives, poorly trained mercenaries and such. No, the heads of their organization are all well-known political and social figures . . . some even members of the Galactic Senate."_

The Chairman fell silent a few moments, as if wishing to let the information sink in the hearts of the viewers.

"He will turn everyone against our cause!" a young Minister spoke up, balefully eying the Chagrian's projected image.

"For now", old Rafin retorted, his demeanor remaining as calm and unperturbed, as ever. "But, like all tyrants before him, he will make the mistake of considering the world expandable. Then" he smiled, "they will see him for what he is."

"I pray you are right" Mothma whispered. The old Minister had been her mentor, the man who had taught her all about the finer points of politics and she had grown to trust his opinion, whenever it came to delicate issues.

"I always am" he whispered back, this time making a small smile appear on the woman's roughened features.

"_Fang Zhar is one of them. He was apprehended earlier today, for initiating a coup against the Emperor. His sentence remains to be decided, by the Senatorial Courts, the main charge being High Treason against the State."_

"If they're judging him for treason, he's as good as dead" another Minister interjected, as another wave of applause erupted. Pressing a button on the table's surface, he closed the holo-projector, making the image of Amedda's self-satisfied smirk dissipate.

"It is a risk he assumed. That we all assumed" Mothma answered, sitting straighter in her chair.

"So, now what happens?" Minister Ter, a short, vivacious woman, asked. "Will we secede? Or will we fall under the rules of this mad-man?"

"It is a very complicated problem" Mothma said, frowning darkly. "On the one had, we need to think about the security of our citizens. Palpatine will not allow any system to secede now, when he needs everyone to rally toward him. On the other hand . . . we cannot afford to have our laws and jurisdictions mangled by the Empire's wishes, our children indoctrinated into such a militarist system. In the end, the question we must ask ourselves is this: Is the price of freedom much too high to pay?"

A chorus of disarticulated murmurs started flowing freely around the table, as each Minister expressed his or her opinion. Unfortunately, in the general bedlam, none could make themselves heard too clearly.

"Ladies and gentlemen" an irritated voice rose, "this is Chandrila's ruling body, _not_ a circus group!"

All eyes turned to the speaker, Rafin, who banged his wooden cane on the table, several times, to get everyone's attention. Apparently, the years had not dulled the man's abilities in leadership.

"Now" he continued, on a much quieter, even though his wizened features still remained stern, "I suggest we carry this discussion in a proper, civilized manner!"

Most of the young Ministers were looking abashed by the rebuke. Their cheeks glowing crimson. Even the older and much more experienced were quiet, although it was clear they did not like to be lectured by the old man.

Rafin opened his mouth to continue, when both of the large doors swung open with a groan, to admit a winded-looking Laskar.

"Captain" Mothma jumped out of her seat, taken by surprise, "what is the meaning of this?"

"My apologies . . . Milady, Ministers . . ." he said, between pants, bowing slightly in front of the group that eying him quizzically. "I believed this to be of . . . significant importance."

He handed a small, data-disk and Mothma took it. Without any further commentary, she inserted it into the holo-projector, activating the device. The entire room darkened, as a large image materialized itself. In the first few seconds, it was impossible to distinguish exactly what it was meant to show . . . an aerial panorama of Coruscant, perhaps.

This impression changed the instant that the image focalized upon a large, rectangular structure. The Jedi Temple. And, judging by the heavy column of smoke rising in the atmosphere, it was burning.

The entire council stared, dumbfounded, as if the gift of speech had suddenly left them. None could find worlds to explain the horror that they felt, seeing the shocking sight laid out in front of them. Freedom and Justice's last bastion, in its death throes. It was all far beyond worlds.

"He . . . he actually did it" a Minister whispered, his voice sounding completely devoid of emotion. "The bastard his wiping them out!"

By the way the image was tilting and de-focusing, it was clearly the work of an amateur, but that did not seem to make it any less painful than it was.

"Enough" Mothma murmured, pressing the stop button and causing the inferno to disappear.

For a few moments, the room was completely silent, as each person analyzed that which had been seen. But, when their introspection was over, the silence was not broken suddenly. No, the Ministers each raised their heads and the decision could be clearly discerned within their eyes.

_Chandrila must secede as soon as possible. Before it is too late_.

"All those in favor, raise your hands", Mothma said quietly. The others promptly obeyed. However, a quick look at the round table showed that not all hands were outstretched. Rafin had stood frozen-still in his chair, the entire time, not moving an inch.

"Rafin" Mothma whispered, concernedly, noting the old man's pale skin and widened eyes, "what is it?"

"He didn't lie" the man spoke, on such a small voice that everyone had to strain in order to hear him. "Palpatine didn't lie."

"Lie? About what?"

"What he is capable of doing, if someone stands up to him."

All of the Ministers were looking at Rafin, as though they had never seen him before. Gone was the quirky-self confident, headstrong politician, only to be replaced with a cowering, trembling, pale human being. Where was the courage which he had shown during Amedda's speech?

Turning toward Mothma, he took her hands in his, holding them in an almost vice-like grip.

"Mon" he whispered hoarsely, staring almost dazedly at her, "you must not do this! You must not allow the secession!"

Wrenching her hands from his, the young Senator involuntarily flinched as she saw the almost-demented expression that had taken over the man's features.

"It no longer depends on me now" she stated, coldly. "The Council has decided. The Empire is much too dangerous to be allowed into our homes!"

"We will have _no_ more homes if we do not yield! He is ruthless, Mon, don't you see? When I spoke with him, I thought him to be foolish and shortsighted, but he isn't! He will destroy us completely, if we oppose his will!"

"Rafin, you are starting to sound like one of his zealots" Ter said, with a disgusted expression.

Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same, their minds believing that Rafin had been finally driven crazy by his old age.

"Mon" he murmured, pleadingly, looking the Senator in the face, "I taught you all you know . . . please, listen to me. I don't have any other choice! He will kill us all!"

His wide, grey eyes seemed to be expressing on single, feverish wish:

_Please, do not let these fools secede._

"It is out of my hands" the woman answered, breaking eye contact. Rafin smiled then, his features seeming to soften, the expression of a man who had come to grips with his Fate.

"You . . . have been like the daughter that I never had" he said, on a surprisingly gentle voice. "The years I have spent teaching you were the happiest of my life. And, even then, I knew you were intended for great things!"

Taking a few swift steps forward, he surprised everyone (including Mothma herself) as he wrapped his frail arms around her waist.

"Fight for what you believe in" he went on, ignoring the Senator's surprised expression. "Do not forget the Republic. Fight for it, child and, perhaps, one day, you will succeed."

Mothma looked on in bafflement, as a few tears fell down the old man's wrinkled cheeks ad disappeared into his short, white beard.

"Whatever happens, always remember me. Curse my name, hate me, whatever you wish . . . but, please, never forget me!"

"I will never forget you Rafi" Mothma answered, as her mind was working on overdrive to understand everything. Why was Rafin behaving like this was the last time they would see each other?

"Because it is the last time" he answered, with a ghost of his former smile, as if guessing her jumbled thoughts.

Everything else seemed to happen with blinding speed: Captain Laskar, who wad been sitting quietly by the doors suddenly started running forward, yelling at everyone to get down: Rafin gripped Mothma, with surprising strength for his age and threw her under the large table. The woman fell down on the mat and tried to get her bearings back as hast as possible. Looking for Rafin, her eyes found him in the center on the room, with something in his hand, as Laskar ran madly toward him.

The next few moments would later seem to merge together, in Mothma's mind: first, there was the light, that enveloped everything and almost blinded the woman, who shielded her face with her forearms. Then there was the noise. The heat. And the impact.

Mothma slowly opened her eyes. All that she could feel was pain. A numbness seemed to come after the initial burst of agony and for that, she was grateful. She could not move, for her body felt like it had been crafter in lead. All that she could feel now was the weight of a wooden panel against her back, pressing her face-forward into the white wall.

Wait, her dazed mind intervened, the wall was not completely white. It was full of dark red dots, splattered all over. As the meaning of what she was seeing finally sunk in, Mothma retched violently, fighting with a powerful wave of nausea.

Suddenly, the dull pressure disappeared, as the large panel was carefully removed and several pairs of arms struggled to raise her up.

"Milady, are you alright?" she could hear their voices, muffled and diffused, as if she were under water. A dull ringing, reminiscent of the blast, kept sounding, in the back of her head.

"I'm fine" was the hoarse, automat answer that left her lips. "I'm fine."

"No you are not" a male voice contradicted her. "We will take you to the hospital wing."

"No" she whispered. "No . . . I want to see . . . where is Rafi? . . ."

Her vision was still unclear and unfocused, as she looked upon the shadows that quickly exchanged glances between themselves. Then, the strong arms carried her once more and settled her down, on the carpet.

Mothma's blurry vision slowly started to regain its sharpness, as she stared at the blackened, unrecognizable, charred husk in front of her. The being that had been, mere moments ago, a living-breathing human being. Who had been her teacher.

"Why did you do it, Rafi?" she barely choked out, her fingers brushing against the ruin of what had been a human face.

"He had been blackmailed by the Emperor, apparently" one of the soldiers dutifully replied. "If the Council were to vote the secession of our planet, then he was to eliminate all of its members. Otherwise, a fleet would take the planet by force."

"How do you know this?" Mothma asked, the logical side of her taking over, even as the rest of her continued to grieve, in a state of shock.

"We decoded several messages only a few minutes ago. Unfortunately, it wasn't fast enough to stop . . . this."

And he gestured with his free hand.

Mothma raised her eyes, to look at the devastated room: the round, heavy wooden table had been smashed into several smaller pieces, the once white walls were charred and blood-spattered, the ornaments had been reduced to dust . . . and the carpet was full of blood stains, from the large number of bodies that lay scattered everywhere.

"Is anyone still alive?" she asked, wondering how she could still breathe, watching a carnage of this scope.

"No" the young soldier replied. "all of the Ministers are dead, including Captain Laskar."

He pointed toward the body of a man whose face had been disfigured by the blast.

Taking a deep breath into her still aching lungs, Mothma struggled to rise up, as the dull throbbing of pain returned. Placing an arm around her shoulders, the soldier helped her walk, avoiding to trip on any of the contorted bodies, strewn across the floor.

"He used our own people against us" Mothma murmured to herself, as she was being slowly carried to the medical center. "How could I have been so foolish?"

Turning toward the men, she looked at them with an icy stare that made them involuntarily shiver.

"Contact Bail Organa" she asked them, as she was being ushered into the center. "Tell him that . . . the game will be far nastier than we had once thought."

Her head fell limply on a pillow, as the sedatives that a 21B unit had just administered, went into effect.


	18. The Value of One Man's Loyalty

This chapter was a difficult one to write, seeing as action sequences always seem to take longer to write. (for me, at least)

A heartfelt thank you to all those who left me a review, you guys give me the strength to go forward, even when I think my mind is seemingly devoid of ideas! Then I just sit down, read what everyone has written, get very ambitioned, start typing and the ideas simply flow out freely, like a river that was being blocked by a dam. Thank you once more!

**A word of warning: the story will get progressively darker, as the Order's light is slowly extinguished. This chapter is especially dark and there are some scenes that are not intended for the faint of heart. The rating may go up to R (M), I'm not decided yet. Here, there are some scenes that sit almost right at the threshold. You have been warned. **

**Chapter XVIII - The Value of One Man's Loyalty **

"This way! Hurry!"

A large group of Jedi Knights was swiftly making its way through several deserted corridors. Many of them appeared to be extremely tired, judging by their labored breathing and their shaky steps. Their robes were torn, shredded and covered with coagulated blood, but none of them seemed to care. A small explosion could be heard behind them and they quickened their pace, casting worried glances over their shoulders.

"The second barricade is straight ahead" Agen Kolar, the leader of the motley group called. The eyes of many Knights seemed to come to life once again, as they saw the makeshift blockade laid out in front of them.

"There they are! Take aim and shoot!"

Many young Knights and Padawans scrambled frantically to get themselves behind the barrier's protection. The few that managed to keep themselves calm ignited their lightsabers and placed themselves in a defensive perimeter, shielding the others.

Soon enough, several clonetroopers rounded the corner, immediately opening fire on the Jedi. The Knights swiftly spun around, twirling their blades at almost impossible speeds, as numerous blaster bolts were deflected wildly into the floor, walls and ceiling.

"They're not passing through here!" Kolar panted, brushing the sweat from his brow, as his blade decapitated two troopers, with a swiping motion. Unfortunately, another two stepped up in the empty space, continuing the endless barrage of fire.

"They're too many!" a Padawan yelled, but was quickly silenced as a blaster bolt struck him in the abdomen, making him crumple on the floor, with a soft moan.

Kolar gritted his teeth, as a few beads of sweat fell into his eyes, causing his eyesight to blur slightly. Ignoring the sharp, stinging sensation, the Zabrak Master abandoned himself to the Force, allowing it to guide his blade, with deadly precision. Several more soldiers fell down, struck by death, but, for every trooper, a Jedi also fell.

Kolar slowly retreated, moving his saber in an array of slashing moves, in an effort to deflect every incoming blast. The muscles in his body were protesting to the brutal punishment and his upper arms had gone almost numb. Still, that did not stop him from fighting, as another soldier fell, his own shot hitting him between the eyes.

Suddenly, an angry shout could be heard and several troopers turned back, in order to see the source of the commotion. That would prove to be their last mistake, as a cobalt blade ran them through, in the blink of an eye.

With panicked screams, all of the soldiers turned to see a tall man, carrying a boy on one shoulder, while wielding a lightsaber with his free hand. Unexpectedly, he somersaulted, doing a flip in mid-air and landing in the middle of the thoroughly stunned troopers.

"Well, aren't you going to shoot?" he asked, a smirk roughening his features. Igniting the blade once more, he spun around on his heel, holding the weapon out, horizontally. Twelve troopers collapsed, their heads removed from their shoulders.

Seizing the advantage, the surviving Knights jumped out from behind the barricade, their weapons lodging themselves in white-armored bodies.

Soon, no clonetrooper was left standing, in the small corridor.

"Took you long enough to arrive" Kolar grumbled, frowning at Anakin.

"This kid is heavier than I thought" he answered nonchalantly, gently placing the teenage boy on the floor, careful not to tough his broken legs.

Kolar's face darkened, as he looked at the young, deathly-pale Padawan. The boy's chest rose and fell slowly, as the air wheezed in and out of his lungs, in shallow, pained breaths.

"They have no mercy" he sighed, resting his palm on the child's forehead. "Not even for the young ones."

"They were bread not to feel emotion" Anakin answered, leaning against a wall. "Obey orders to the letter and not think on their own."

The Knight closed his eyes, to block out the images of suffering, if only for a few moments. Around him, numerous Jedi were crouched on the floor, some tending to their injuries and some lying in the agony of death, as their brothers watched over them, to make their passing easier.

However, things weren't much better in the solitude of his own mind. The horrible fear that had been ignored in the heat of battle now rose up once again, to laugh in his face. The feeling of impending doom returned with a vengeance and a quick glance at his wrist chrono told Anakin that only three and a half hours of Palpatine's deadline remained. Shuddering, he reflexively swallowed the bile that rose in his mouth, as his hands clenched themselves at his side, a testimony to the mute fury that he was feeling.

Suddenly, the empty blackness behind his closed eyelids disappeared and, for a few seconds, something else replaced it: a hazy, blurred image, of a young woman, lying on a stone floor, her body covered in blood and her eyes wide open, pleading for help. As quickly as it had come, the image faded into nothingness. Blinking furiously a few times, Anakin felt even more disoriented. Had it been Padme? Or someone else, that he had not yet met?

Unexpectedly, the loud clatter of booted feet could be heard and the entire group of Jedi went on alert, those who were still able to fight unhooking their lightsabers.

"Away your weapons put. No harm, do we mean."

Several Knights smiled, in relief, as another group of Jedi appeared, with Master Yoda walking in front. Behind him stood Obi-Wan Kenobi, Luminara Unduli and the Wookie Chewbacca.

"We thought you were another detachment of clones" Kolar explained, grimacing slightly. "If they keep the offensive at the current pace, we won't be able to hold our positions for more than a few others, at best.

"How are the Younglings?" Yoda inquired, his brow furrowed, in worry.

Anakin took his comlink out of the tunic's pocket, quickly entering a frequency.

"Master Ti, have the clones reached your level yet?"

"_No"_ the Togruta Master's voice could be heard, _"it's still fairly quiet here. All of the Younglings have been placed in the command center and the blast doors are securely closed."_

"Good. Announce me if the situation changes."

Kolar was listening into his comlink as well, with a frown on his face.

"The Eastern Sector has fallen" he said, in answer to the quizzical stares "and the Knights stationed there were forced to retreat to the third line. The Southern and Western sectors are still in dispute."

"It is not a major loss if we lose one front" Anakin explained, crouching down and drawing a little sketch through the dust on the floor, with one black finger. "So long as we can stretch their forces all across the Temple and stop them from gathering in very large groups. The key, ultimately, is to keep them away from the subterranean levels and the command center."

"But what difference does it make, if we will all be killed, eventually? Why do we protect the Younglings, if there is no chance of taking them off-planet?"

Anakin raised his eyes, to look at the tall, gangly Padawan who had spoken. The young man's forehead was bandaged with a piece of dirty, rough cloth and his left arm has hanging limply, at an unnatural angle.

"Have I said that it is impossible to save them?" he asked, quietly. "No, I said that many of us would likely die in the attempt, but not that everyone is doomed."

"Coruscant is surrounded by a blockade of Star Destroyers!" the Padawan nearly exploded, his eyes shining with fear. "We have no chance of passing through such a gathering of forces!"

"Nothing is truly impossible" Anakin countered. "We only limit ourselves, by believing an obstacle to be impassable."

Obi-Wan's weary features lightened up, as he caught Anakin's eye. To see the Knight use one of the lessons that he had taught him made Obi-Wan feel an unexpected surge of happiness. Even now, surrounded by madness and destruction, a glimmer of hope still existed.

"A blockade-runner would be the wisest choice, in this matter" the Master spoke.

"Unfortunately, the Temple was never equipped with one" Kolar, sighed, forlornly.

"Still, there are citizens on Coruscant who possess such ships" Luminara intervened. "Perhaps if one Jedi were to manage an escape from the Temple, he would be able to seek help."

Chewbacca shook his massive head, growling softly. _"The people have turned their backs on your Order. None will have the courage to intervene."_

"Those who support us, still there are" Yoda contradicted, leaning on his gimmer cane. "Getting to them, the problem will be."

"Perhaps I could . . ." Obi-Wan started, but was swiftly silenced by Anakin, who jumped up from his crouching position.

"No" the Knight said, his eyes glinting strangely in the diffuse glow of the few lighting rods left. "I will go."

The silence that ensued lasted a few moments, as all eyes rested on Anakin's face. Some Jedi were perplexed, while others were downright annoyed that he would choose to leave in such a critical moment.

Obi-Wan frowned, trying to guess what his former pupil was thinking, but Anakin's features were as unreadable as a stone slab.

"We need you here" he tried, on a placating tone, ignoring the slight flash of anger that showed on his friend's face.

Placing a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, Anakin led him aside, as the others looked on, frowning.

"I cannot stay any more" he whispered hoarsely, tightening his grip on Obi-Wan's shoulder, making the Master cringe. "She . . . she is in danger. I can feel it!"

"Padme?" Obi-Wan asked. "What do you mean, Anakin?"

"Palpatine gave me a warning" the young man explained, his gaze fixed on his boots. "He has her, Obi-Wan! And if I don't find her in time . . ."

He left the rest unspoken, for he didn't have the power to contemplate what would follow.

"What did you not tell us?" Obi-Wan asked gently, forcing Anakin to meet his eyes. "Why did you keep quiet?"

"Because you were already burdened and I did not want to add another problem to the load" Anakin spoke, forlornly.

Obi-Wan sighed, running his fingers through his short, auburn hair, in a gesture of helplessness.

"You realize that it is Palpatine's intention to lure you into a trap, don't you?" he asked his friend.

Anakin nodded, his features set in a grim expression.

"I have no choice, Obi-Wan. He has tied my hands!" Looking at the dying Padawan, the young man's shoulders squared resolutely. "Besides, I'll be able to get help as well."

"And if he succeeds in capturing you? What then?"

"Then" Anakin answered quietly, as a shadow passed over his face, "I will do what the Force tells me to."

"Please, be careful" Obi-Wan whispered, on the tone that a worried parent would use on its unruly offspring. "Too many of us have died needless deaths."

Anakin tensed slightly, as the footsteps of several troopers could be heard nearby. "If some of us manage to survive this purge, then their deaths will not have been in vain."

The young man's eyes rested on an old, Ithorian Jedi, lying still, in the clutches of death. Several others were kneeling besides him, in quiet mourning. A Padawan extended a shaky hand and covered the departed sentient's face with a cloth piece, torn from a robe.

"_There are too many casualties as it is" _Chewbacca huffed. Apparently, the Wookie had seen Obi-Wan and Anakin's emotional turmoil, for he now stood beside them, with a sad, solemn look in his black eyes. _'Tarfful warned me, but I still wasn't expecting this . . . savagery!"_

He gestured with his paw, to a pair of Knights, who were carrying a wounded friend on their shoulders. The sight was truly horrific, as the poor man had lost both of his legs in an explosion and was now moaning softly, as the others did their best to alleviate his pain, somehow.

"Let him pass into the Force" Bant spoke gently, placing a hand on the other's forehead. "There is no point in prolonging his suffering."

One of the Knights covered her face with her hands, to hide the silent tears, while the other stood saber-straight, his pale face devoid of any expression. Bant held her webbed hands over the wounded man's head and chest, murmuring softly, her eyes closed. His pained cries seemed to subside, as his body stopped contorting and writhing in the throes of agony. A peaceful, almost serene expression appeared on his features and several other Jedi could swear that he was even _smiling._

"I see it . . ." came the soft, almost inaudible reply. "I see the light, Bant. It is here, around us, _in_ us . . ." a pause, as an unexpected spasm shook him. "The angels await our passing . . . they will welcome us."

If he had meant to say anything more, no one would know, for the words seemed to die on his lips. The peaceful expression never left his face and his eyes continued to stare unblinkingly at the ceiling, as if seeing the ethereal angels which he had spoken of.

The short, dark-haired woman did her best to control her overflowing emotions, but her shoulders shook slightly, as she struggled to suppress her grief under decades of training. The man stood still, seemingly as emotionless as ever. And then suddenly, he turned around, un clipped the lightsaber from his belt and started walking determinedly toward the approaching group of troopers.

"Knight Traden!" Kolar called after him. "Where are you going?"

"To defend the Order" was the silent, cold reply. "And die, if it is the will of the Force!"

"A Jedi does not resort to revenge" the Zabrak admonished, with a hard look in his dark eyes. "That is a path to the Darkside, Knight Traden!"

"No" the other answered, on the same flat, dead tone. "Skywalker was right" he went on, looking in Anakin's direction. "The Order as we knew it is dead. Our Code failed and it is dead as well. Why continued in following something that has no value anymore?"

With this ominous question hanging in the air, the Knight ignited his blade and broke out into a sprint down the corridor, disappearing behind a corner. None of the Jedi harbored any illusions anymore. They all knew that they would never see Dain Traden alive again. The man's eyes, as he had looked at his dying friend had said it all:

The light that had shone in them was gone, replaced by something far deeper than despair, something dark, primal, akin to madness.

From their faces, it was clear that some of the Jedi huddled behind the small barricade believed some of the Knight's words. Was the Order truly dead? Did the ideals that they had once held dear have any significance in this dark, new world?

Kolar was silent, his eyes closed, as if in deep meditation, seeking answers in the Force. Only a few words, whispered under his breath, hinted what he was feeling:

"He was my Padawan . . ."

From somewhere down the hall, the loud discharges of blasters could be heard, along with the whine of a lightsaber intercepting them.

"I taught him since he was a boy."

The high-pitched howl of a clone raked through the air, followed by another and another.

And then it suddenly stopped. The entire hall grew quiet and only a few dripping sounds could still be heard.

To the small group of Jedi, the silence seemed much more frightening, as the loud thumps of accelerated heartbeats could be plainly heard.

"Do not give into despair" Kolar spoke. His face was paler than usual, but his voice had kept its strict sharpness. "We cannot give in now, when we must prove our strength!"

He waited for a moment, as several faces rose to look him in the eye, before continuing, on a more subsided tone: "Whether we live or die will be determined by the will of the Force. All we can do is fight for the Light and the Code we are sworn to uphold."

By the small flicker than now was visible on many of their faces, it was clear that Kolar's words had brought hope into the souls of the Knights and Padawans, who were now struggling to keep the fear, anger and despair at bay, with their years of training.

Anakin, for his part, had turned his eyes away from the wounded Jedi's suffering, an indescribable expression on his features. Death had always been a very painful subject for him. It had been the only unchanging constant in his life, the one obstacle that he could never leap over, no matter how hard he tried.

As the Suns could not be stopped from setting, so death could never be prevented from taking those closest to him under its shadowy wings. No matter what he did. Perhaps this was Fate and it was best left alone? Perhaps the prophecy hanging on his shoulders was also a curse, killing his loved ones and condemning him to a life of solitude and darkness.

The young man shivered slightly, pressing two black-gloved fingers on the spot between his eyes, as if warding off a headache. These thoughts only served to distract and pull him out of focus. Every time he had feared for someone's passing, Fate had cruelly intervened, making his premonitions come true, in such a gruesome fashion that nothing could protect him from the shock and pain of loss.

Whenever he thought of Fate, he only saw a tangled, infinite web, stretching out in all directions. A myriad of beings were caught in the twisting threads, their faces full of despair, as they called out for help, outstretching white, bony arms, in a mute plea. He would try to help as many as he could, but there would always be those whom he couldn't reach in time, as they were swallowed by the blackness that laid beyond the translucent web, their screams fading into the void.

No matter what he did, in the end he was never strong enough.

"_Jedi Skywalker? Are you alright?"_

Anakin shook his head quickly, trying to banish the disturbing images in the depths of his mind, where he would never be able to see them again. Vaguely, he was aware that his fists were curled and that the circuitry of the prosthetic arms was straining under the immense pressure.

"Yes" he answered, breathing quickly. "Yes. I'm alright."

Obi-Wan, who had stood silent the entire time, looked hard at his friend, as if saying: _No, you are not._ However, he wisely kept those words to himself, opting for a more diplomatic approach.

"What do you intend to do, Anakin?"

"I will face him" was the immediate reply. Obi-Wan could not detect any trace of hesitation in the other's voice. "If a confrontation he wants, then a confrontation he will receive!"

"Are you ready for this?"

"Yes."

"Will you not give into temptation and anger?"

"I will try."

This time, Obi-Wan noted, with worry, there had been a slight hesitation. The Jedi Master could only let out a breath he was unconsciously holding, while looking into his friend's eyes.

"Then go" he said, resignedly. "I will not stop you. I've learned that arguing with you is useless."

The ghost of a smile seemed to brighten Anakin's face for almost a second, before he composed himself once more.

"When have I ever let you down, eh?"

"Trust me, you do _not_ want to know . . ."

Chewbacca watched the exchange with interest. It was clear that the two Jedi were very close to each other, by their tones and relaxed body postures. However, an undercurrent of tension seemed to run just below the surface. Both seemed tense and on edge, albeit for very different reasons.

"_May I help you in your task, Jedi Skywalker?"_ the Wookie asked, ending the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between the two men.

Anakin looked up at the tall sentient, his features betraying his surprise.

"No, Chewbacca" he shook his head. "I will not get another involved in this."

"_Still"_ the Wookie insisted_, "strength always lies in numbers. Every cub has to learn that, as does every Jedi. If you wish to be of any help to your life-mate, you will have to leave your stubbornness aside."_

Anakin winced, at Chewbacca's words. Just how had the Wookie known?

"_I am not deaf"_ the sentient answered, with an amused bark. _"Many in the Temple speak about this. I do not mean to judge you" _he added, seeing the expression on Anakin's face, _"only to show you that the burden is not necessarily only yours to carry."_

Anakin frowned, studying the other from head to toe. Chewbacca seemed to be a capable warrior and by his earlier words, the young Jedi deduced that the Wookie had spent a lot of time in the company of humans, for he had a very deep understanding of them.

"As you wish" he answered. "I will allow you to join me, but only so far as the Temple's entrance. The other Jedi will need all the help they can get. Everyone is important now."

The Wookie nodded curtly, in response to the other's decision. With a quick move, he picked up his bowcaster, slinging it over his shoulder.

Checking that he still had his lightsaber strapped to his utility belt, Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, who was struggling to calm an almost hysterical Padawan.

"May the Force be with you, Master" Anakin said, out of habit. They had exchanged this greeting many times, over the years, when they had been separated. Yet, this time, the words seemed to loom over their heads, as threatening as dark storm cloud.

"May the Force be with you too" was Obi-Wan's reply. The man extended a hand, as if to touch the other, but Anakin had already somersaulted over the barricade and was running straight ahead, Chewbacca hot on his heels. The Master sighed once more, rubbing a palm over his tired eyes. He still felt it, even more powerful than before: Anakin was drifting farther from him. The more he tried to keep him close, the more he lost him, like the sand that flowed between his fingers, no matter what he did.

And now, the hand of Fate (or the Force?) had put them on opposite roads once more, the Master realized, as he watched the fading figure, with a black mantle billowing behind him.

_Will you ever be truly safe, my brother?_ was the question that kept repeating itself in his mind, over and over, as he leaned down to check the pulse of another wounded Knight. _Will this nightmare ever come to an end?_

**x x x**

Padme couldn't understand. Or think, for that matter. Floating gently, in a warm ocean of brightness, her thoughts kept scattering in all directions, the moment she tried to pull them together. She felt safe and content in the whiteness that surrounded her, even though a part of her mind kept warning her that she was still in danger. What danger? What was her subconscious trying to tell her?

But once more, all rational thought seemed to flee from her, as she could only keep floating on the warm current.

_Am I losing my mind?_

For a Senator, whose whole life had been spent dealing with certainty and facts, the question seemed perfectly logical. Where was she? And, more importantly, what was she doing here?

The answers were eluding her.

"_Padme? Padme, my angel, can you hear me?"_

That voice . . . it had seemed so familiar . . . her heart leapt with joy, in her chest, even though she did not know exactly why. She could see the tall silhouette of a man, walking towards her, on the surface of the white water.

"_Don't you recognize me?"_ the man asked, reaching out to her, with a black-gloved hand. _"Padme, please answer me!"_

There was such urgency, such pain, such desperation in his voice, that Padme wished she could help him. She raised her own hand, placing it in his larger one.

The worry on his face instantly melted away, to reveal a bright smile and two luminous eyes.

"_My angel . . ." _

With a sudden move, he wrapped both of his arms around her waist, gathering her to him and crushing her against his chest. _"My angel."_

Padme's heart was fluttering madly in her chest, as she struggled to breathe, in the man's tight embrace. Her face was buried in his large chest, pressed firmly against him. She could feel the smell of leather, skin and metal, a somewhat strange combination that nonetheless was very familiar to her.

"_Ani?"_ was the quiet, whispered question. She remembered him now, as a myriad of images were piling up inside her head.

His smile widened even more in response to her words, as he bent down and touched her forehead with his lips. Padme trembled slightly, as a shiver passed through her body. She could not be sure if it had been anxiousness, fear, happiness or another, unnamed feeling that had caused it.

"_What is it, my love?"_ the man asked, his brow furrowing in confusion, as he traced one finger over Padme's cheek.

"_I . . . don't know",_ she answered, the confusion rising to the surface once more. As she met her husband's troubled eyes, another memory immediately appeared. _"Your dreams!"_

"_What about them?"_ Anakin inquired, cupping her face in both of his hands.

"_You saw me in pain, dying",_ she answered, hesitatingly. _"What happens next?"_

A small chuckle came from the other one. _"You are not dead, Padme. You are here, safe with me. And it will be this way forever_._"_

"_And the baby?"_ she could not keep herself from asking, as the warning of danger in her mind intensified.

"_It does not matter",_ Anakin answered, quickly swatting the subject aside.

"_It does!"_ Padme contradicted him, trying to pull away from his wild embrace.

The young man's features seemed to darken, as he frowned. _"What difference does it make? We are finally together, away from the Jedi, the Senate and the world and all you can think of is your child?"_

"_Our child, Anakin!"_ Padme whimpered, as her heartbeat accelerated, this time out of fear, not love.

"_I did not ask for it",_ was the laconic reply.

'It'. That one word made Padme feel as if a sword of ice had been shoved through her chest. Her husband, the man she loved more than anything in this world, was calling their baby 'it', as if she wasn't a living being . . . as if she wasn't his own flesh and blood.

"_You will die in childbirth"_, he repeated the ominous words. _"If I have to choose between you and it, I choose you!"_

Padme shoved him brutally, in an effort to get away, but his black hands tightened painfully around her forearms, making her cry out in pain.

"_Let me go!"_ she screamed, twisting and turning against his hold.

Anakin's face had changed. Whereas a few moments ago it was happy and carefree, now his features were rougher and darker than she had ever known them to be.

And his eyes were shining amber-yellow.

"_Let me go!"_

"_Stop struggling, Padme!"_ he ordered gruffly, gripping her shoulders and shaking her.

The woman's eyes were brimming with unshed tears, as she looked at the unyielding face, so unlike that of her husband. No, this face belonged to someone else, another person, one whom she feared with her whole being. Her instincts kept screaming at her to run as fast as she could.

"_I will not let you die!"_ the dark Anakin growled, his eyes flashing with a look that she could not describe. It had not been love. It had been something far more sinister. It had been lust, a primal desire for possession.

Padme flinched suddenly, as the man ignited a crimson lightsaber, which he had been holding in this left hand. _"This child must not be born!"_ he spoke, bringing his blade down in a sideways cut.

The woman cried out once more, as the energy beam seared her abdomen, in one sweep. As her entire body was invaded with wave after wave of pain, Padme's eyes wondered to her torso, from which a steady stream of blood was pouring. Her throat felt sore from the screaming, as she placed her hands on the wide gash, in an effort, to stop the massive hemorrhage. A large pool of dark blood had gathered at her feet, as everything seemed to be spinning and twisting around her. She could vaguely see the man (monster), looking at her, with a mixture of rage and elation upon his face.

Padme felt her knees give way, as she fell down, onto a cold, marble floor. She had been screaming the entire time, but her voice sounded alien to her own ears, as if it belonged to another. It was a long, mournful howl, seeming to belong to a crazed animal and not a human being. Around her, the dark, warm pool was extending and she could feel her life draining away, under her palms.

But something far worse had happened, she realized, as the madness of pain left her mind. Where there had been a warmth growing inside her, now only stood coldness and nothingness. Where there had once been life, only death existed now.

"_My baby . . ." _

That one word had escaped her lips, a low moan, like the chirp of a dying bird. It was only one word and yet, for her, it now held together all of the agony and despair, coalescing it into one single desire. A desire to make the one that had killed her child pay.

As she raised her eyes once more, she could see the man's outline, as if she were looking through a crimson veil. Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself to her feet, ignoring the hundreds of stabs of pain that coursed through her, as if she were breaking apart on the inside. The man was still smiling condescendingly at her, as if she were a child, unable to understand the logic of a well-meaning parent.

"_You monster!" _Padme half whispered, half yelled, as she threw her self at the Jedi, gripping him by the leather tabard and shaking him wildly. _"You monster!"_ It was the only thing she could say now, but it conveyed all of her pain and hate.

_This is not my Anakin, _her mind was repeating over and over, as a final refuge from madness. And it was true. The man may have been as handsome as Anakin, may have been able to talk and act like Anakin, but he was not her husband. His eyes were as cold and lifeless as the heart of a glacier and something dark and wild lurked in their depths.

With the desperation born in the heart of one who had nothing more to lose, Padme raked her nails over the man's face. The Jedi hissed in pain, as small droplets of blood poured from a few gashes on his cheeks.

"_Foolish woman!"_ Anakin snarled venomously, shoving, Padme's body away from him, making the wounded woman fall once more. Her back hit the cold floor, as the air was torn out of her lungs. She could see the dark man approaching her, as his boots clichéd on the stone dais. His face was contorted by a cruel smile and his eyes were once more the sickly yellow.

_This is not my Anakin! This is a madman! _

She wanted to pull herself up again, to crawl away from that malevolent presence, but her strength was completely gone, as her life-blood continued to stain the floor. Wincing in pain, Padme curled herself into a ball, closing her eyes, to block out the image of the Knight's twisted face. Her hands were still pressed against the wound on her abdomen, as if that would bring her child back to life once more.

_Force, have mercy on me! _Padme silently prayed, as she heard the red lightsaber activate once more. The man raised the weapon over his head, as if preparing to deliver the final strike.

And yet, the agony of death never came.

Padme cautiously opened her eyes, to see the faux Anakin, his amber eyes opened wide, in horror, his lips forming a small 'O'. The woman's heart appeared to skip a beat, as she saw a golden blade, sticking out of his chest. With a hushed groan, he crumpled to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been severed. Behind him, stood a tall woman, dressed in a white jumpsuit, holding a lightsaber in one hand.

"_Do not worry", _she whispered gently, kneeling next to Padme. _"I won't hurt you." _

Extending a hand, she placed it on Padme's abdomen and the woman felt as if a warm current was electrifying every cell in her body. Looking down, in astonishment, she saw that the wide gash was completely gone.

"_H- how?"_ were the only words that she could utter.

The other woman only smiled, enigmatically.

Padme's eyes fell once more upon the man who was now collapsed on the floor.

"_Who was he?"_ Padme couldn't stop herself from asking.

"_The embodiment of your fears",_ came the other's answer_." This is your subconscious",_ she continued, seeing the Senator's bafflement. _"Your_ _spirit has retreated here, to get away from the Emperor. In this deep place, many things that the mind conjures can seem very real."_

Padme gasped slightly, as the body disappeared, along with the icy floor, only to be replaced by the endless ocean of light once more. The white-clad woman placed a hand on her back, helping her to stand.

"_Here, your fears are revealed for what they truly are. Here, you must be honest with yourself and stop hiding behind comforting half-truths."_

Padme nodded her head vaguely, as she swallowed the large lump that was lodged in her throat. Looking at her companion, she met the melancholic look of two, blue eyes.

"_Have faith. All is not over yet. Your husband loves you and he will risk his life to save you."_

A part of Padme wanted to ask the strange woman from where she knew all this, but another side told her that it was best if some things remained unknown.

"_Have faith, Mother",_ she whispered, before suddenly disappearing into the blinding whiteness.

Padme stood still for a few moments, barely able to breathe. The girl was the same one that she had seen in the Senate rotunda . . . her daughter! That thought should have brought her happiness, yet now it only made her feel all the more vulnerable. She was carrying a child that would likely change the fate of the Galaxy as a whole, but was unable to protect it, in the situation in which she currently found herself.

"_Ani", _she choked out, as a wave of tears threatened to burst out, testimony to the emotional upheaval through which she had been put through, _"where are you?"_

**x x x**

Kazuya bit her tongue painfully, to prevent herself from lashing out at the trooper who was brutally shoving her down the hallway. To her right, Jor didn't appear to be faring any better, as a clone kicked him in the shin, when he had stumbled over a fallen body.

The girl caught her friend's eye, with an accusing glare, that almost said: _This was the most idiotic idea ever. _

Jor shrugged his shoulders, before he was backhanded for not standing still.

"Gentlemen, that certainly is not the proper way to treat children."

The clones halted instantly. In front of them, at the end of the corridor, stood a tall Jedi Master, with grey eyes and white hair, tied into an elegant pony-tail.

"Master Drallig!" Jor exclaimed, recognizing the Temple's Swordmaster.

Cin Drallig smiled, as he unhooked his blade from its holster.

"Now, I suggest you set the children free, before any more blood is spilt unnecessarily."

"You are in no position to make demands, Jedi" the officer who lead the party spat with disdain. "Men, kill him!"

The clones immediately opened fire, making Drallig jump several meters into the air, before landing close to them. Extending his hand, the Master called the Force to his aid. The life-energy responded and several troopers were hurled into the air, before smashing into the walls or ground. Drallig ignited a bright, turquoise blade, as he sidestepped a charging clone, impaling it with the tip of the weapon.

Jor and Kazuya could only stare open-mouthed, as Cin Drallig seemed to move with unfathomable speed and precision. Clone after clone fell under the onslaught of his lightsaber, without a second's warning. With low grunts, the soldiers who were holding the two Padawans crumpled to the ground, their heads severed from the shoulders.

"By the Force!" was all that Jor could whisper. The Swordmaster had dispatched almost a dozen clones in about as many seconds.

"Well you two" he addressed them sternly, "don't just stand there, gaping. Come with me!"

The teenagers felt overwhelmed by the tumultuous events of the past few hours. glancing shyly at the dignified Master, they followed him down the now quiet corridor.

"You two are the ones who were left without a Master?" Drallig asked them, as they carefully climbed down a set of stairs.

"Yes, sir" Kazuya answered, as her foot almost slipped on the slick surface of the stair. Wincing, she tried to keep her broken arm as immobile as possible.

"Then what were you doing in the East section? You were supposed to be helping Master with the Younglings!"

The Padawans bowed their heads in shame, hearing his reproachful tone.

"We wanted to help" Jor said, weakly.

"Getting yourselves killed isn't much help!" Drallig chastised them sternly.

The children fell silent, for none knew how to answer. True, they had not heeded the orders of the other Masters. Yet, they had wanted to fight for the Order as well, like the older Padawans.

"You can fight for the Order" the Swordmaster spoke suddenly, picking up their distressed thoughts. "Don't you understand, children? The Jedi are dying! Thousands of years of knowledge will be lost forever, if none of us survive!"

His tone was no longer harsh; now it was sad, mournful, and full of regret.

"In the end, the young ones will be the future" he whispered. "If the old Masters do not survive, the Younglings are our only hope."

Drallig's grey eyes moved to Jor and Kazuya and the two could almost swear that they had seen sympathy shine in their depths.

"When this massacre will be over, the future will rest solely un the shoulders of the next generation.

The Padawans shivered slightly, wondering if the Master's words were prophetic, or merely dark ruminations, brought by the pain and the shock of the last few hours.

**x x x**

"Commander, behind you!"

C/704 threw himself to the ground, the instant that a green lightsaber seared the air where his head had been, mere seconds before. Rolling over, to get farther from his attacker, he pulled out his concussion blaster from its holster, taking careful aim. The Jedi brought his blade into a defensive stance, deflecting all of the bolts that the clone was shooting at him.

Suddenly, the Knight dropped his weapon, which clattered nosily on the floor. With a blank stare in his eyes, he collapsed, as a bolt tore through his skull.

"What did you do?" another clone asked, perplexed, as he helped 704 to rise.

"A little trick I learned in the war, facing a few dark Jedi" he explained, wiping the grime from his armor. "A concussion blast and a lightsaber do not mix very well. The vibrations of the impact are enough to break bones. In this case, the Jedi wasn't able to hold his weapon any longer. And then . . ."

He pointed to the fallen Knight, for emphasis.

The other trooper nodded respectfully, in deference of his superior's experience.

"Go and tend to your post", C/704 ordered, before he started walking down the hall, after a large group of his brothers.

"Sir" a clone called, from the front of the group, "there is a large group of Jedi in front of us."

704 crouched down, squinting his eyes, through the visor of his helmet. Yes, there seemed to be around seven Knights, lying behind what appeared to be a barricade, erected with furniture, a broken column and several plasteel cylinders.

"What should we do, sir?" a trooper asked.

"There are too many of them for a direct attack" he answered. "Brute force will lead us nowhere."

"Indeed. You will be slaughtered, most likely."

704 and several other troopers turned around, in surprise, only to see another bother, clad in white armor, with distinctive orange markings.

"Commander Cody?' he asked, recognizing the man's symbol. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping with the execution of Order 66, of course" the clone answered, in an emotionless voice.

C/704 could only frown behind his mask at this.

"His Majesty did not inform me that you were in a position of command" he said, regarding the other wearily.

"After your little interactions with the Jedi Skywalker, I have come to believe that you are much too conflicted in order to lead this task."

The soldier was speechless for a few moments, before a wave of indignation crashed through him.

"Who are you to presume that I am not fit to lead this operation?" 704 asked, his tone cold and firm.

"It is very simple" Cody answered. "You hesitate in killing Jedi. Not to mention the fact that you spared Anakin Skywalker's life _twice."_

C/704 wanted to launch a sarcastic reply at the other clone. Only the Force knew with what he had been forced to put up, from insubordinate soldiers, during the war. Yet, now, he found himself at a total loss for words. He knew very well that Cody was right. His remaining strands of loyalty to Skywalker were making him a hazard to the entire operation. But, he realized that being flung out of command by a much younger clone was a very deep wound to his personal pride and he wasn't about to give up easily.

"Cody" he said, with a dangerous edge to his words, "I have fought longer in this war than you have and I believe I have more experience than you."

The other trooper merely shook his helmeted head, in amusement.

"True, but you have not served with the Jedi as long as I have. They can be very cunning when they want to."

As if I didn't already know that! 704 grumbled to himself, but stood silent, as Cody continued.

"Do you even know who the Jedi behind that barricade are? Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda and Agen Kolar, with whom I have served in the war. Plus a few others who will not be sitting around idly, asking to be shot!"

Cody shook his head once more, disdainfully.

"C/704, for the mission's sake, I am asking you to formally resign your command."

The trooper kept his silence a little longer. He felt the stares of the others boring into his back. He harbored not illusions; they would join Cody instantly, for the other had a higher rank than him.

Sighing, 704 tore the blue patch on his shoulder, which showed his rank and threw it at Cody. The other caught it in midair and attached it to his chestplate, with a small smile behind the white mask.

"I'm glad you can listen to reason" the trooper said, loading his rifle. "Men, on my order, you will split into two groups . . ."

704 stood on the sideline, as Cody outlined a plan. He had no intention whatsoever to help the other with his endeavor. If he wanted to get his head sliced off his shoulders by Yoda, that was his problem. And he did not doubt the fact that Cody would have ordered him out of the mission entirely, if he had possessed the necessary authority.

_Pride? Spite?_ he asked himself, feeling vaguely amused. Perhaps the Kaminoans had made him a little _too_ human, after all.

Turning his back upon Cody, he started walking down a narrow hallway, his thoughts still spinning like crazy inside his head. Why couldn't he be like his brothers, forsaking all emotion, in favor of duty?

_And what fun is that, acting like a mindless drone?_

He smirked slightly. Yes, Anakin would say just that, if he knew of his internal turmoil. Annoyed, the soldier sped up his pace. He was thinking about Skywalker again, when he should be trying to banish him from his thoughts!

But he had served with the Jedi nearly a year and a half, after the disaster in the Setter system . . . could he give up on a man he had grown accustomed to calling a _friend?_

_704 leaned against the durasteel bulkhead, looking at the young Jedi, with a mixture of amazement and irritation. Skywalker was standing on one hand, his legs pointing upwards. The soldier had seen others do this, during training. What made things different now was the fact that the Padawan was supporting the weight of his entire body on only two fingers, without losing his precarious balance and toppling over. _

"_Kid" he smirked, "you should have joined the galactic circus."_

"_Obi-Wan used to joke about that" came the retort. "Said I could go to the circus if I failed as a Jedi. But I have no intention of doing that!"_

_As always, when he was speaking of his ambition to become a Knight, Anakin's eyes were glowing determinedly. In other circumstances, it would have made him look imposing. Now, however, with his cheeks red from the blood draining out of his legs, 704 thought that the boy looked ridiculous. _

"_What's so funny?" Anakin asked, seeing as the other had started chuckling lightly. _

"_This" the soldier answered, giving the young man an unexpected shove. Caught off guard, Anakin unceremoniously crashed into the floor, on his stomach, his legs flailing wildly, in all sides. _

_Now, 704 had to hold onto the bulkhead, to stop himself from doubling over with laughter. _

"_Droll, very droll" Anakin muttered, gathering himself up from the floor, while throwing menacing glares at the other man. _

"_Kid, you need to learn to laugh more" 704 said, as he struggled to stop his chuckling. "You've been much too serious these past few days, you know?"_

_At this, Anakin merely walked to the room's small viewport and gazed out at the colorful lines of hyperspace. _

"_I miss someone" he said, plainly. _

"_I had figured that much. Yesterday, in the flight simulator, you seemed to be a million parsecs away. Perhaps that's why Thano blasted you so easily!"_

_Anakin made a show of rolling his eyes, as dramatically as possible. _

"_So, who is she?"_

_The Jedi stared at the clone, with a stunned expression on his face, which almost caused 704 to start laughing again. _

"_Of course I realized this was about a lass, kid! Why else would a young man such as yourself be spending all of his free time gazing at the stars, daydreaming and sending secret holos to Coruscant?"_

"_You knew?"_

_The soldier crossed his legs, in a casual stance. _

"_Dek, over at Communications, was puzzled as to who was sending messages to Coruscant, in the dead of night. I told him to keep quiet about it."_

_Anakin smiled, an act which seemed to soften his features. _

"_I wish I could tell you about her." _

_The clone playfully punched the young man's shoulder._

"_I'll be looking forward to it, Anakin" he said, walking to the door. On the threshold, he turned around, eying the youth with a mock-stern expression. "However, that does not give you any excuses for blundering about, like a love-sick puppy!"_

_And he was out, before Anakin could fire his annoyed retort. _

C/704 hastened his footsteps once more, breaking into an all-out sprint. _Forget about him! He means nothing now!_

But an obstinate part of himself was still insisting: _You swore loyalty to him, to serve him, out of all the Jedi on the front, because you respected him. _

The clone wanted to argue, but he thought better of it. Having a contradiction with one's conscience was not exactly a good idea. Not to mention the fact that it was the first sign of madness.

_Maybe all of this is driving me crazy, _he thought, as he descended on a flight of stairs, jumping three at a time. _Are clones able to lose their minds?_

_Perhaps you are much more a true human than you first imagined, _was the stubborn conscience's reply, but the trooper chose to ignore it. Rounding a corner, he skidded to a halt, almost slipping on a small puddle of blood. In front of him, two troopers were locked in combat with a Twi'lek Jedi. The Knight deftly parried all of their blasts, sending them sailing into the ceiling.

_Deflect this!_ 704 said to himself, as he pulled out his concussion blaster. The Jedi was much too focused on the other clones, so he never saw the deadly blast coming. It hit him squarely between the shoulder blades, throwing him several feet into the air, before he came to a halt on the smeared floor.

C/704 walked casually to the fallen being, ignoring his brothers' heartfelt thanks. Reaching the body, he flipped it over with the tip of his white boot, to look in the Twi'lek's frozen, dead eyes. The expression of pain that was chiseled on the Knight's features had no effect whatsoever on the clone, who continued to look on, unmoved. It was easy to kill other Jedi. He did it with the clinical detachment of a man following the orders of his Monarch, of a man created to serve. Then, why couldn't he get rid of that blasted Skywalker and finally lose the weight that had thrown onto his shoulders?

Swearing under his breath, the clone left the corpse in the care of the others, as he trudged onward, with no real purpose in mind. He needed to walk, fight and dispatch every Jedi that got in his way. If he allowed himself any type of respite, the doubt would suddenly boil to the surface once more.

_Just what **did** the Jedi do, to deserve the Emperor's wrath?_ he wondered, knowing full well that he may never know the answer. _Why does he want them all eliminated? They were honest, honorable people. They deserved another fate._

Pulling his thoughts to a halt, before they could turn treasonous, the clone raised his eyes from the floor . . . and froze instantly, when he saw what lay in front of him. For a few seconds, all he could do was stand and stare, as the turmoil inside peaked. Then, unexpectedly, he pulled out his weapon once more, charging ahead, his intent shining fiercely in his eyes.

**x x x**

Anakin's black boots were pounding furiously on the pavement, as he ran. Behind him, he could hear the Wookie's loud pants, as he struggled to keep up with the Jedi.

"Stop!" Anakin ordered, extending a hand. Chewbacca saw the sign and slowed down, stopping alongside the young man.

"_What is it?"_ the Wookie inquired.

"Clones behind the corner" Anakin explained. "I can feel them through the Force."

Chewbacca let out a deep, menacing growl, as he readied his bowcaster. _"Then what are we waiting for? They have slaughtered your brethren, Jedi Skywalker!"_

"I know" Anakin answered, "but if we jump in blindly and get ourselves killed, we won't be doing anyone any favors."

"_Then what do you suggest?"_ the sentient asked. It was very clear that Chewbacca had started to loathe the clones, when he had seen the slaughter that they were causing in the Temple.

"We lure them out" Anakin asked, a malicious grin on his lips. Raising one black hand, used the Force to push an already damaged marble column, making it fall, with a deafening sound. Soon, a group of about ten troopers were coming their way, to investigate the source of the commotion.

"Now, we pick them one at a time" Anakin said. Not waiting for Chewbacca's answer, he ignited his blade, leaping over the shattered column. The clones gasped, shocked to see a Jedi landing in their midst, seemingly out of nowhere. For several, it was their last conscious thought, as the lightsaber burned through their chests, with almost surgical precision. The rest, recovering from their stupor, instantly opened fire, only to have their bolts immediately returned to them. A soldier attempted to shoot Anakin in the back, but he felt a sudden wave of pain, as a large, furry paw grabbed him by the helmet. Chewbacca tossed the trooper into the air, before slamming him into the ground, with a force that broke every bone in the clone's body.

The last of the group fell as well, as he was unexpectedly shoved out an open window, to his death, several hundred stories below.

"_So, the stories were true, then"_ Chewbacca huffed, eying Anakin with a shrewd look in his black eyes.

"What stories?" the young Jedi asked, carefully stepping over a clone whose body had been severed in two.

"_In the war, soldiers used to say that, in close combat, you are as deadly as a Raltyriian Tiger. I thought that most were exaggerations, told by humans under the influence of alcohol or spice. It appears I have been proven wrong."_

Anakin nodded his head, accepting the other's compliment. Silently, he pointed to an even larger assembly of clones, who was marching toward them. Loading his crossbow, Chewbacca fired several shots, making three troopers collapse in mid-stride. The rest started shooting as well and the whole thing degenerated into a frenzied free-for-all.

The young Knight used swift, precise strokes of the lightsaber, to deflect every single bolt away from him. Swinging the blade over his shoulder, in a classic Shien riposte, Anakin took a step forward, bringing the blade around in a deadly arc, which severed the arms of a clone and the legs of another. Moving with the ease of one who had been training in the arts of combat since childhood, Anakin held his weapon with one hand, while his other black fist smashed into the visor of a trooper, shattering it. The clone doubled over in pain, only to receive a knee in the stomach. Before he could do anything to stop his attacker, the luminous blade came down once more, bringing his life to a mercifully quick end.

"You fight very well yourself" Anakin panted, wiping the sweat from his brow, as he watched Chewbacca slamming a clone into the wall, while he shot another.

The Wookie wanted to answer, but no words left his mouth, only a long howl of pain. And another. And another.

Anakin, sensing a warning from the Force and smelling the stench of burnt hair in the air, looked at Chewbacca' who was crumpled on the ground, as a clone had managed to pump several bolts into his back. Abandoning all rational thought, Anakin allowed the Force to take over. Drawing heavily on its energies, he dashed through the storm of laser blasts, in order to reach his wounded comrade. Kneeling next to the Wookie, he pulled the large being behind the marble column, while evading the deadly blasts that kept heading their way.

Hidden safely behind a large stone slab, Anakin grabbed several scattered cloth pieces. Tying them together, he pressed them on the Wookie's wounds, to stop the profuse bleeding.

"Stand still" he ordered, when he felt the other move, "or you'll bleed to death."

Chewbacca heeded his warning, for he stooped moving, The Wookie's eyes were closed and his face was scrunched up, a testimony to the pain that he was feeling. Anakin stood quietly by him, his palms still on the wound, as he tried to use the Force, in order to heal it. _Why has the Wookie gotten himself involved in this?_ the Knight wondered, with increasing anger. _This is not his war! These clones should hunt us, not those who seek to help us!_

The maelstrom of anger was increasing in strength, but Anakin didn't care. Ultimately, one man was responsible for all of the bloodshed around him. _Palpatine._ The Emperor's name only managed to make the blood boil even harder in the young Jedi's veins. If it hadn't been for that two-faced Sith, none of this would be occurring!

_Your anger makes you stronger, gives you focus, _Palpatine had told him and Anakin had to acknowledge that the decrepit old man had been right, on this point. Renouncing his struggle, the Knight allowed his emotions to flow free into his body and to weave themselves together with the fabric of the Force. Somewhere, in a deep part of his mind, he could almost hear Obi-Wan's panicked voice, warning him that he was treading a very fine line. Anakin swatted it away, as though it were an irksome fly. The last thing he heeded now was Obi-Wan, giving him a lecture, inside his head!

The clones had ceased their fire, seeing as nothing was moving, in the narrow hallway. One of them pointed toward the crumbled column.

"I saw the Jedi and the Wookie hiding behind that thing."

"Advance slowly" a trooper advised, taking command of the situation. "Those two are very dangerous."

Another clone tilted his helmeted head to the side, his voice lined with skepticism. "The Wookie is as good as dead. As for the Jedi . . ." he patted the barrel of his rifle, "there's ten of us and only him."

The others seemed to become much more audacious in their advance, after their brother's words. Suddenly, they all stopped, as a tall, dark silhouette rose slowly from behind the column. The man's head was bowed, making it impossible to see his features and both black-gloved hands were held high, palms forward, meaning either peace or surrender. The clones tightened the hold on their weapons, but none opened fire. Truth be told, they were curious as to the Jedi's intentions.

The man walked slowly to them. When he was only a few meters from the first line, he stopped as well.

"What do you want, Jedi?" the leader asked, keeping the other under careful scrutiny.

The Knight stood silent, before he answered. "Get out of here. All of you!"

Some of the troopers gaped at him, stunned by his boldness. The commander chuckled behind his mask.

"That is the last thing we would do, Jedi."

"Then, you will pay with your lives!" came the other's determined answer, as he raised his eyes, to look at his opponents. All of the troopers gasped, for the Knight's lips were upturned, in a feral smile, but his eyes were as cold as the nights on Hoth.

"_Get out of my way!"_ he growled, extending his hands forward. The clones raised their blasters, but none got the chance to fire, as all Hell broke loose. The very floor started to shake under their boots and large pieces of stone and metal suddenly became airborne.

"Hit the ground!" a soldier shouted, seeing the danger, but it was too late. A massive slab crashed into them, crushing three men under it. One, who tried to crawl away, found himself being thrown into the walls and several others were impaled on a few jagged metal polls.

The leader had thrown himself into a crammed niche, to escape the destruction. The soldier pulled off his helmet, to be able to breathe more freely. Heart hammering wildly in his chest, the man struggled to get over his shock. A lone Jedi had managed to slaughter his entire squadron, in less than fifteen seconds, without even igniting that energy sword of his! Who ever that man was, the soldier did not want to have anything to do with him.

Outside, he could hear the low, muffled sounds of the dying. For a moment, there was a quick shuffle, a small yelp of pain and one of his brothers fell next to the leader. The man stared at the other's smashed helmet, as he felt his heartbeat go up another notch. Now, there was total silence . . . except for the thump of a pair of boots, on the stone dais. The clone struggled to crawl even deeper into the niche, to no avail, as the Jedi's looming figure appeared above him.

"Have mercy . . ." was the only thing that the terrified soldier could utter, as he gazed into the other's ice-cold eyes.

"Mercy?" the Jedi asked, on a perfectly calm, controlled tone. "Mercy, like the one you showed to those Padawans, at the gates? I don't think so!"

The trooper almost screamed, as he felt the cold fingers of an invisible hand curling themselves around his heart. Thrashing around madly, he desperately tried to pull himself out of their grip, but it was useless.

"Do you know what I despise the most?" the Jedi asked, as he watched the writhing clone with detachment.

"N-no" the soldier stammered, still looking at the other, searching for any semblance of mercy.

"Cowardice" was the curt reply, before the pressure on his pounding heart increased. Letting out a yell of desperation, the clone threw himself at his would-be killer, but Anakin merely sidestepped and the trooper slammed hard into the floor.

"Your Emperor has made a very big mistake in challenging me!" the Jedi spoke, eying the other man with barely restrained anger. The clone managed to control his body's desperate thrashing and contorting, as he spat on the Jedi's black boots.

"I hope you burn in hell!" he croaked out, with his last strength. The Knight's eyes flashed in rage, as he changed his grip and the clone suddenly stopped moving, as his heart exploded in his chest.

Then, a heavy blanket of silence lowered itself over the hall. Anakin looked once last time at the soldier's blood-stained face, as he turned his back on the fallen sentient. The Jedi could feel the residue of power still flowing through his veins, a lethal venom and a dark ambrosia at the same time. He slowly basked in the dark waves, but a voice with had been silenced during the battle rose to the surface. But this time, it was not Obi-Wan's voice, but his own, terrified at the destruction around him.

_What am I doing?_ it kept repeating over and over, in shock, like a broken litany. _What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I **doing?** _

Anakin struggled to suppress his conscience's screams. There would be time for guilt trips later. Now, survival was his first priority.

_Even if it means drawing on the Darkside? _

The young Knight shivered. A part of him had enjoyed the feel of power, just like in the Tusken camp and in the many incidents of the war, that had forced him to tap into the Dark power. But another part was screaming at him to stop, that this path lead only to more death and suffering.

Caught up in his own internal war, Anakin did not sense a lone clone, who was still alive. The man had escaped a gruesome fate, for the initial Force-blast had thrown him down a stairwell and he had gotten only a few minor bruises from the rough tumble.

Staying hidden behind a large piece of stone that had fallen out of the ceiling, the clone slowly took out his blaster. Taking advantage of the fact that the Jedi was standing with his back towards him, the soldier carefully took aim.

Anakin felt a sudden shift in the energy around him and the Force screamed a warning in his ears. Obeying, he quickly spun around, only to be narrowly missed by a bolt. However, another came after he first one and, conflicted as he was, Anakin was ill prepared. The laser beam tore through his left knee and the Jedi let out a scream. His legs crumpled completely under him and he fell to the ground, hard.

The young Knight pursed his lips together, to try and contain the pain that he was feeling, as the white-clad soldier approached him, blaster rifle at the ready.

"So" the clone said, studying the fallen man, "the mighty Jedi does have weaknesses!" He frowned at Anakin and his voice grew darker. "I will make you pay for what you did to my brothers!"

Anakin wanted to call the Force to him, to use it against the trooper, to push the weapon out of his hands, but he couldn't. The unending waves of pain that emanated from his shattered knee kept him from focusing enough in order to be able to use the Force in any manner. He saw the clone aiming its weapon for a shot to the head and he willed himself to relax and let go of his fear. Perhaps this was meant as retribution for the lives that he had taken, he wondered, as his conscience chose this very moment to return with a vengeance. He could almost see Padme's face, hovering only inches from his. The young woman appeared to be scared and the fear was most certainly directed toward him. No, he realized, as regret boiled to the surface, his wife would not want to see him like this, a dark, merciless killer. It would, most likely, break her heart.

"_I'm sorry, Angel"_ he tried sending to her as he awaited the swift end . . . which, peculiarly, never came. Looking at the clone, Anakin was stunned to see a smoking hole in the middle of its chest. The man collapsed, to reveal a second soldier standing behind him. Anakin's eyes widened, as he instantly recognized the other's mannerisms and posture.

"704?" he asked, unbelievingly, in a whisper.

The soldier knelt and _somehow,_ Anakin knew that he was smiling amusedly behind the white mask.

"Get up kid" he said, extending one hand. "The cavalry has arrived!"


End file.
